


Afterwards

by Xasilios



Category: Hunter X Hunter, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: All for One is a good father, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Assassin Killua Zoldyck, Betrayal, But I don't really think so, Character Death, Character Study, Dark Killua Zoldyck, During Canon, Flashbacks, Gradual descend into villainy, He's a villain from the beginning, Hurt/Comfort, IT JUST GETS WORSE, Identity Issues, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, It's Nen, Killing, Killua Needs a Hug, Killua goes to UA, Killua has All for One Quirk, League of Villains as Family (My Hero Academia), Multiple traitors, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Sensei | All For One, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Pre-Canon, Protective Dabi (My Hero Academia), Protective Sensei | All For One, Protective Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Slightly overpowered Killua, Sociopath Killua, Strong Killua, The Author Regrets Nothing, Traitor Killua, Villain Killua, We Die Like Men, Will it get better?, from both sides, of some sorts, possible manga spoilers, who am I even kidding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 60,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xasilios/pseuds/Xasilios
Summary: They were on the run. For months. And then, it became too much for Alluka. Too much for Nanika. The next thing he knows, he's in a foreign world, reborn as the child of the greatest villain alive.Or rather, Killua learns about being loved and All for One learns to forget and express affection.And then, within the blink of an eye, their temporary peace is gone. And Killua is about to lose everything all over again.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 194
Kudos: 418





	1. Their child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions, Introductions.
> 
> Entering a new world.
> 
> And the meeting of two entities.

The moment the newborn baby opened its eyes the world came to an halt.

No bird to be heard, no wind to touch the trees. Down the hallway nurses were frozen in their movements, the clocks standing still.  
It was as if everything held its breath, waiting for something to occur.

The baby's eyes shifted, taking in their surroundings.

A white room, clean ceiling tiles, blinding neon lights, dark curtains drawn even though the light seeping through the few slits indicated that it was still daytime.

It was cold. The room wasn't heated, no one but the newborn in the large bed, the breath of the baby coming out in a white cloud that curled upwards and then slowly evaporated.

Then, mind finally settling, the baby lifted its tiny arms, so weak and fragile that it send an unsettling shiver down its spine, to stare at the palms.

They were soft, like a cotton pillow.

Unpleasent.

The baby kept staring at the spotless inside of those hands, analyzing.  
No scars, fingertips slightly blue-ish due to the dropping temperature, overall, no bigger than a tomato, muscles still as underdeveloped as expected from a newborn.

Closing its eyes again, the baby focused, only seeing darkness in front of their inner self.

Then, there, a light.

A tiny flame bursting to life, barely strong enough to survive a gust of wind. It flickered.

The baby concentrated on it.

The flame grew in size, almost doubling.

Now it could be called a fire, steadily burning in the darkness that was the baby's mind.

Though successful, the process of reviving the flame had left the baby with bone-deep exhaustion, threatening to drown in it.  
It was a fight to keep their eyes opened, black spots dancing in view.

Still no sound was made. No other breath was taken. Only the baby's heart was beating, all others frozen in time and space.

Though the newborn, as strong as it once had been, was, after all, just that: a newborn baby.  
So, no desperate attempt saved it from succumbing to the exhaustion clinging to their tiny frame.

With a shuddering breath the baby's eyes closed and sleep overtook.

Then, the world continued beating.

Hallways now filled with footsteps, endless voices of a neversleeping city drowning together into one big cloud.  
The cries of newborns echoed through the hospital wing, shouts of glee from enlightened mothers, expressions of pain from those just having lost a loved one.

Birds chirped, wind rustled the trees outside of the window.

The world had once again returned to its former state of complete and utter oblivion to the otherworldly change that had just taken place in the center of modern society.

* * *

All for One was by no means a simple man.

Without having to know him, anyone could see that this man was a part of his very own universe, centered purely around him.

The way he stood tall, towering over anyone and anything daring to oppose him.

Though his hair was as white as snow it didn't give him the feeling of old age and fragility associated with the color, no, rather it made him seem empowered. Among humanity, he was one of a specimen, rare, strong, intimidating.

His eyes were icy blue ponds, calculating, staring. One gaze made you feel like you were an open book for him to read, there wasn't anything that could escape his notice or cloud his judgement. His whole being strummed with unseen power, resting just underneath his skin begging to be released.

Decades of wandering the earth had taught him the ways of the world; the further he had walked, the stronger he had grown and now, after almost a hundred years, his wandering came to an end.

Such a man shouldn't have known the depths of human relationships. The only feelings he had shared with others had been in his very first years. Back then, feeling emotions had been natural and it had only been natural to let them openly show.

Now, however, he had long grown to stop feeling for others, slowly but surely the disregard for human lives grew, apathy settling around his heart.

To be frank, the present All for One did not feel nor live for other humans, all his actions were purely for his own personal benefit.

That, however, contradicted the fact that he currently walked the halls of a hospital.

His face was expressionless, nothing indicating the many thoughts racing through his mind. He couldn't really explain why he had come to this hospital, to be honest, he himself didn't really understand how all of this came to be. Though as he closed his eyes, a woman came to his mind. Flowing long hair falling down her back, face turned towards him, kind smile stretching her lips and eyes oh-so gentle looking at him. He could hear her bubbling laugh as if she was with him right now, laughing at his thoughts.

At first, she wasn't more than a nuisance keeping him from his duties. Especially those better done during nighttime. But somehow, after a while, he found himself aching for her company, her mindless chattering now part of his daily life and the few days she spent by his side grew to weeks, months, years.

She wandered alongside him. Not like all the others, walking behind him, following his every step, this woman walked beside him, keeping pace with him, sometimes even rushing forward, dragging him along with her.

She was endearing.

In her presence feelings welled up that he had long since forgotten. In a sick but longing way it was beautiful. The way she seemed to accept all the sides that were to him. She had, more than anyone ever before, seen and understood so much of him. There was no fear or judgement in her eyes, just endless and unconditional love for him.

All for One had fallen for her.

And then she had told him. Years spent together, side by side. Her calm and collected self reaching him, who had forgotten how to feel.

_She was with a child_. His child. The child of their love for each other.

All for One was not a man of relationships or feelings, but at the thought of a child with her he had cried tears.Tears of unrivaled joy.

Then they turned to tears of anguish.

And then they dried and his feelings slowly started to crumble again.

Because now he was in a hospital, _alone_.

The hallway was bare, apart from a few nurses that hurried to scramble out of his way when noticing his stare and the aura of utter doom surrounding him.

He had a destination in mind, he didn't need anyone guiding him.

With a breath, All for One came to an halt in front of a white door. The small metal sign next to it read _Delivery room_ in a small, straight font.

All for One was not a man of feelings but as he reached down to the door handle, his hands noticeably shook. He knew what to expect, he had prepared for it. But now the strong and intimidating All for One, man of more than a thousand quirks feared what waited for him behind this simple door.

Absent-minded he wondered what had become of himself. Fearing something like this.

Then he entered the room.

His breath came out in thin white vapor. The room's temperature unnaturally cold.

There wasn't really much in the room to catch his attention so his gaze immediately went to the bed taking up most of the room's space.

The bed was void of any female body.

He slumped, even though he had already known, seeing it before his eyes made all of it real in a way that left him out of breath and craving for her presence next to him.

Instead the blanket on the bed covered a tiny body laying motionless, only the soft lifting and sinking of the blanket indicating any life.

Almost in a trance All for One strode forward until his feet hit the metall frame of the bed.

And there it was, their child.

The sight of the small boy flushed all the anguish he had felt to the back of his head.

This was his child, this was **their** child.

The child she gave her life for.

The tuft of white hair resembling his own hair, long lashes resting on rosey cheeks. Pink lips slightly parted to let out soft huffs of air.

Even though the newborn was asleep All for One could see her features in his face and slowly he reached out a hand, stroking the child's cheek.

All of this was unfamiliar and even though it hurt him, being alone in this room when she should have been there with him, the small child made something spark in his heart.

All for One was not a man of feelings, but this small child that was the living prove of her love for him made hot tears trickle down his cheeks.

She had trusted him, she had understood him, she had loved him.

And All for One, seeing his own child, swore to himself that he would never let harm come near his child.

With hands as careful as they never had been before he lifted the child off the bed. His hands were easily larger than the small body and it scared him how frail his child seemed. He didn't know how to handle frail things, used to everything breaking under his touch.   
All for One let out a shuddering breath. This was his chance to learn, to redeem himself and pay his love back to her.   
The baby's chest rose steadily, small breaths the only sound filling the room.   
With the back of his pointer finger he gently caressed the baby's cheek, it was soft. Soft and innocent so unlike him that it painfully wrung at his heart.

Suddenly the breaths that had been falling calmy before picked up. His child's eyelids fluttered. 

All for One held his breath.

And then slowly round eyes opened.   
A smile crept onto the father's lips, staring back at him were eyes shaped just like hers, catlike, slightly feminine, emitting hidden danger.  
And if All for One's eyes had been the color of a deep ocean, dark blue in its depth, then his child had eyes as bright and shining as priceless sapphires glinting in the sunlight.

Hope welled up in his body, this was a new start. 

"Hello, my dear son.", he said, voice hardly louder than a whisper. Nevertheless the baby perked up, eyes fixated on his face, taking everything in.

"You're my everything now, all I've got left, my treasure-", his voice broke off, another tear trailing down his cheek.   
Babbling something incoherent the baby reached up with its tiny hands, gently patting his cheeks as if to will his tears away.  
All for One huffed a hoarse laugh.   
"New to the world and already caring for me.", he murmured. "Just like her."

Then he straightened up, lifting his son in outstretched arms. 

"Your name shall be _Shigaraki_ _Arakan_ , my worthy one, the hero whose light will illuminate the new age of modern society."

Something in the baby reacted to his speech, appreciation filling blue eyes, tiny hands clenching into fists.

"I will move mountains for you, I will change the society for you, my beloved Arakan, because you are **everything**."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arakan means hero, worthy one and I saw it fitting looking at the story and my thought process.


	2. Of the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As of now, the Zoldyck family is one of the most complicated families I've ever known.
> 
> Affection is not just affection.
> 
> Killua cries.

_If someone asked Illumi about his relationship with Killua, he would certainly answer 'He is my little brother and the heir of the Zoldycks, therefore I'll take care of him'._   
_Illumi loved Killua. But Illumi's type of love was far from normal, it wasn't the love of a brother caring for his sibling, no, Illumi saw Killua as a possession of the Zoldycks. His little brother had to follow strict regulations, training and rules and Illumi's role was to keep him from straying too far off the line. This role had been assigned to him since birth and Illumi strived for it, strived for Killua. He was obsessed with Killua._

_And therefore it was only logical for him to detest Gon Freecs, self-proclaimed friend of his beloved sibling._

_Killua did not need friends. They were a hindrance to his training, distracting him and, worst of all, infecting him with false morals._

_Sylva had allowed Killua to roam the world with his 'friend'. His father had always been right, so Illumi trusted his judgement and followed Killua within a safe distance. Just enough to go unnoticed, but enough to safely watch over him._   
_The more Killua saw of the world, the more Illumi had the feeling he grew distant to the Zoldyck family. He hated it. But his father himself had said Killua would return sooner or later; after an agonizing betrayal of his so-called friend had left him heartbroken._

_When Killua finally returned after years, Illumi had been thrilled. Now his little brother had realized he was nothing without his family._

_But his thinking soon turned out to be false. Killua did not come to reunite with his family. He came to save 'his friend'._

_Illumi seethed with anger._

_How dare this Gon corrupt his little brother._

_Had it not been for his mutual contract with Hisoka, Gon would have met his end already._

_Instead, his hands were tied and he was forced to watch Killua being dragged away by this fiend. He didn't understand how Killua, that had been raised to be the perfect assassin, came to enjoy Gon's presence._

_Another thing he didn't grasp was Killua's infatuation with the abomination the Zoldycks kept locked away. Illumi knew Alluka was a curse, a mistake that should have been erased from history, but instead his little brother not only got affected by Gon's false ideals but also Alluka's or rather Nanika's curse._

_He held Alluka above his true family._

_Illumi seethed with anger._

_He would stop this. This had already gone too far and finally, he had the consent and backing of both his father and his mother._   
_Illumi forcefully annulled his contract with the magician, now, nothing stood in his way of freeing Killua and steering him back onto the right path. A thing he should have done way sooner._

_Killua had managed to escape with Alluka in his care. Gon had been healed, his Nen restored and his body as healthy as before._

_But it was as if fate had always been on Illumi's side: Killua and Gon parted ways. But Illumi had set himself strict priorities, first he would save his little brother, then he would get rid of the virus that had infected Killua in the first place, Gon._

_Killua did not look pleased when Illumi finally confronted him. Still clearly under the influence of both Gon and Alluka._

_Killua had been sad when Gon and him had parted ways, no, that was an understatement. Something in him seemed to crack and only the comforting smile of his little sister had made him forget about the pain for a while._

_He knew they couldn't stay in one place for long, there was no place on earth where the influence of the infamous Zoldyck family did not reach. He wanted to give his little sister a comfortable life, but whenever he apologized she would just softly smile at him and say she understood._

_Killua was just grateful he wasn't alone anymore, that she wasn't alone anymore. They were together now and he would make sure that nothing would change that._

_When Illumi confronted them close to the edge of a small village north from York New City, Killua had been terrified. This couldn't be the end, he couldn't let it end like that._

_He had fought with all he had left, screaming and begging Illumi to let them live in peace, but his brother had only looked disappointed by the tears streaming down his brother's face. He knew, both of them knew, that Killua could not kill him, because his strength wasn't enough and because he loved him too much. And Illumi completely exploited the fact that he wouldn't ask Nanika to kill him. However, what he did not expect was for Killua to wish Nanika to teleport them both far away from Illumi._

_So the search began anew, but this time Illumi took to a different approach._

_After Killua and Alluka had teleported, they lived in peace for exactly 8 month and Killua had foolishly grown to believe they had finally escaped. And then the telephone in their hotel room rang and Killua immediately knew they had lost. They had Gon. He didn't know how long they had him in their hands, he didn't know what they did to him, but Killua knew that if he didn't return Gon would die and it would be all Killua's fault._

_One look at Alluka's face, that had been so understanding, had send fresh tears rolling down his face. He had cried an awful lot in the past year._

_Killua knew if he returned to the Zoldycks he would never see his beloved sister Alluka again, furthermore, he would return to the dull life of endless torture and training that left him on the brink of death almost everyday. That was his reality now._

_The night the Zoldyck family had found them, Killua cried himself to sleep with Alluka tightly wrapped in his arms. He was sure that was the last time they would feel each other's presence._

_The next morning one of the Zoldyck's limousines parked in front of their hotel. Their whole family had gathered: Sylva and Kikyo, Kalluto, Zeno, Illumi and Milluki._   
_Killua tightly clasped Alluka's hand in his as they slowly walked towards their assembled family._

_Killua's face was blank. He was numb. This was the end._

_One final time he desired to see Alluka's smiling face. And when he turned towards his little sister it wasn't Alluka staring back at him, but the twisted mask of Nanika._

_**"Don't worry, onii-san. We love you, that's why we want you to be safe. So, I hope you understand that this is necessary."** _

_Killua hadn't understood then, because what could Nanika have done in this situation, she couldn't make wishes on her own and Killua still hadn't fulfilled the last of her favors from her last wish, meaning he couldn't make any new ones._

_**"I wish that my beloved brother, Killua, will be safe from the Zoldycks and since this isn't possible in this universe, I hope for him to live a new life in a new world with a loving family."** _

_The last thing Killua had seen were the faces of his family, his mother's lips were twisted into an enraged snarl, his father's eyes had narrowed in a glare that he always sported when Killua deserved a harsh punishment, Milluki's mouth was opened in silent astonishment, but both Zeno and Kalluto just stared on_.

* * *

  
When Arakan woke up only years of suppressing his emotions stopped him from crying. His whole body was shaking, he didn't know if it was from fear, regret, guilt or something entirely different. 

Then, a large shadow fell over him and when he looked up he saw Sylva's face staring back at him, but after a few blinks it changed. The white hair and blue eyes remained, but his features softened and his expression shifted into one of absolute endearment.

Right. This wasn't his world anymore, this was a world without Gon and without Alluka. And that thought made the tears he had fought hard to suppress, drop down.

In the back of his mind he noticed that his new father had picked him up and gently started rocking him in his arms, but that did nothing to stop his tears as Arakan was currently Killua and mourned for all that he lost, for Alluka, for Gon, for the whole world he had left behind. But the thing that weighted on him the most was the fact that he wouldn't ever know what had happened to Alluka and Gon now that he was gone to keep them from harm. Were they tortured? Or was his family kind enough to allow them a painless death? Killua doubted it.

Sobbing and screaming he buried his tiny body in the arms of a father he didn't know, in a world that wasn't his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to keep the chapters around the length of 1K-2K. If that is not enough I can increase the word count, that might make the updates take a while longer though.


	3. Otherworldly Genius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try using the names Arakan and Killua in correlation to his old and new self if you know what I mean. It's kinda hard to explain but I guess you'll know what I mean when reading.

The next few months Arakan woke up crying and screaming more often than he would like to admit. He wasn't an emotional person, not by a lot. He had been trained not to feel anything. But everything he had learned got thrown out the window when it came to this world.

First of all, he could not feel any Nen, at all. Normally, a human being emitted Nen whether or not they had opened their Nen pores. His father however did not even have a slight bit of aura in him. Nothing. Killua didn't know how that was possible. And it wasn't like his father was weak, no, rather the opposite. Sylva had not been weak. Killua had always known that his strength reached high up the sky, never to be fully grasped by anyone outside the Zoldyck family. Killua had been trained to gain and even surpass this strength. Days full of torture were for endurance; hours of reading, studying and completing different exams meant for scholars way above his age were for his intelligence and harsh training, tasks and spars were for his strength. All so that Killua would be great. An assassin and the head of the Zoldyck family. So logically only a person with strength to rival gods could have taught him as much as he knew. Sylva was strong.

And his father in this world reminded him of Sylva. Both were build tall as well as broad, towering over anything and everything. His hair was white, just as it had been in his old world. Inheritance of fatherly genes. Only the heirs were worthy of white hair. In this world his father didn't speak of heirs, nor had Arakan seen his mother and he had already deduced that she had passed away. The far-away look his father sported once in a while only supporting his theory.

The thing about his new father's strength was that it wasn't his aura that made him powerful. Arakan knew others were intimated by his father, but what they called his aura wasn't what he knew aura to be. No one in this world had any Nen flowing through them. But his father was strong in his own way. There was a power- no, multiple powers, too many to count, pulsing underneath his skin. He didn't know what exactly it was, he just knew it wasn't Nen. But the feeling of it was completely foreign to him, in his old world not a single person had this power that seemed so intriguing and diverse. His father's power felt like a strong hand that was adorned with thousands of different bracelets, all varying in shape, color and making. It drove him mad not knowing what it meant.

Arakan made it one of his goals to figure out the means of strength in this new world.

As he had already established intelligence mattered a lot in this world, from his father's stories he knew of schools that were mandatory, but only taught you so much. To Killua the idea of a curriculum not adjusted to the single individual seemed counterproductive. It was illogical to assume every person had the same way, speed and talent in learning, furthermore interests in topics varied and things taught in those schools rarely applied to their later life. Overall, Killua dreaded the day when he had to attend such a facility. Sure, schools were means to obtain information about this world that was so entirely foreign to him, but all questions plaguing his mind could be answered by his father, that he knew was well aware of the faults in this system. But law made it necessary for him to attend school along with tiny, dim-witted creatures called his classmates.

Shivering Killua stopped his thinking about schools, instead he started observing his father. The man in question was seated in a chair behind a huge mahagony desk working on some papers.

Right after they had escaped the cold and empty halls of the hospital, his father had taken him to a mansion just outside of the city, far enough to keep it quiet around, but not enough to cut them off of civilization.

In a way the house reminded him of the Zoldyck mansion, high ceilings, filigree proceeded wood, endless long hallways with carpets just as long and chandelier lit with shining white candles. But this house gave of an entirely different feeling than Killua was used to. This house was warm in a way that made him feel at home. The Zoldyck mansion had always been quiet and cold, few to none interactions between himself and other family members. Before he had met Gon he had spent his days wallowing in self-hatred and pain in his room.

The house in this world was life, this father loved him.

Pulling himself up on the frame of his crib, the still awfully small toddler stood on wobbly legs. Killua hated how weak his body felt, he needed to get his Nen back and with dread he realized he would need to relearn all his assassin techniques. Internally he groaned. But first, he would get intel on this world and figure out how much of his knowledge of his old world would benefit him in this one. Though to do that, he needed to speak.

Arakan already knew trying to speak would end up in senseless garbling. His vocal chords weren't fully strengthened yet and no matter how hard he tried to form words, his mind had been merged with that of a newborn so speaking was out of the question for now. He would try a different approach.

Taking a deep breath Arakan let out a loud wail. To his own embarrassment in the last few weeks, nightmares had made him master the art of wailing like the newborn that he was.

As soon as the noise reached his father's ears, his head snapped up from his paperwork. After confirming Arakan wasn't crying his shoulders visibly slumped in relief. Killua wasn't really used to family members being concerned about his well-being, so he welcomed the change. But in a way he was still on edge, just because his father hadn't started _training_ him yet, didn't mean he wouldn't do it later on.

"What's wrong?", his father asked, his voice monotone, but eyes shining with affection.

Swallowing down his rising shame Killua stretched out his arms towards the man and made grabby motions while babbling nonsense again. His father needed to pick up his hints, that was the only way to start assessing his current intelligence.

"What is it that you want to see? My work?"

Arakan feared his head would fall off for how much he was nodding it.

With a quiet chuckle his father stood up and made his way over to the crib Arakan currently occupied. Crouching slightly down he lifted him up into his arms and sat back down onto the chair he was working from.

"Be careful not to touch anything, dear.", his father whispered near his ears as he picked his pen up again and started writing. 

Carefully twisting in the man's grip Arakan tilted his head to get a look on what he was writing.

Suddenly he froze.

What in the world was this? Why couldn't he read what he was writing? Was he writing in code?

Killua's eyes narrowed. The letters looked entirely different to the ones he was used to. They were less square shaped and more like swift brush strokes. Why was the writing so different to the one he knew when speech was almost identically?

This would prove to be an obstacle in his way to figure out were he stood with his intelligence.

Only one way to solve this:

Tugging at his fathers shirt to get his attention Arakan pointed at something the men had just written.

"Hm?" The men looked down at his son and then back onto the paper. "That's simply a contract for a..." All for One stopped, he didn't know what to say, this contract bound a new criminal organization to him, but he didn't think it was a good idea to let a toddler know about his rather risky occupation.

"... some subordinates of mine." He settled with that and by the look of it the answer satisfied his son.

What he didn't know was that his son was already fairly familiar with the concept of crime.

Though the answer had indeed helped him a bit. Hyperfocusing on the writing and the things his father mumbled underneath his breath while writing started the slow track of acquiring the concept of the written language.

Time passed quickly and before Arakan had realised his father had finished all the paperwork laying around on his desk.

"Aren't you hungry yet?", the man asked, stretching out his own limbs that had grown tired.

Vehemently shaking his head Arakan scrambled out of his father's lab onto the top of the desk. With his clumsy fingers he clutched one of his father's ballpoint pens and tugged an unused paper towards himself. Carefully setting the tip of the pen onto the paper Arakan started writing, hand shaking with the weight. In all his concentration the tip of his tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth and unnoticed by him his father watched amused at what he thought was an attempt to draw something.

Satisfied with himself Killua let the pen roll out of his hand. His handwriting looked awful, that much he could tell. But for his first attempt it shouldn't be bad. Yes, Killua decided, he could show it to his father. Moving out of the way he shoved the paper into his father's waiting hands, carefully observing for a reaction.

All for One's eyes narrowed.

His son did in fact not draw something, instead the paper was filled with messy scribbles of the words _father_ and _family_.

How in the world-?

He could only gape. His son wasn't older than eight months and he had just written his first words in recognizable Japanese just by watching him work for a few hours. It would be an understatement to say he was astonished. Turning his eyes to his son that looked up at him with wide blue eyes a grin spread on his face.

"You, my dear son, have a bright future ahead of you. You little genius!" Grinning he lifted Arakan up into his arms again and nuzzled his cheek with the tip of his nose. "Maybe you have an intelligence quirk, but that would really be an early manifestion.", he mused to himself, not knowing he just gave his son vital information to figure out the means of strength of this world.

But for now Killua was content with just being cuddled and praised for something so trivial as writing two easy words in a horrendous handwriting.

After all, he had never been praised like that and Killua didn't want to admit it, but the physical intimacy felt good so he let the feeling of family just wash over him.


	4. The light and the shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I think I'll update on Mondays.
> 
> And I noticed AfO is a bit ooc, so I'll work on that later on. But since we've never seen him interact with a person he truly loves, I guess it's fine... (I hope)
> 
> Aaaand please bear with me when I make mistakes, English is not my first language.

As time passed Killua learned more and more about his new father. To him it was a complete change: suddenly there was someone who deeply cared for you. But he soon came to learn, that, in fact, his father was in general not a kind person.

  
  
To be frank, his father was a _villain_.

  
  
Arakan had began talking and walking (if the wobbly steps could be called walking) a few months prior. And judging by his father's expression he was exhilarated, but to be honest, he didn't really know why. Back in his old world Killua had already started _training_ at this age. But he soon realized that being able to speak in full coherent sentences at his age was a rarity and therefore spoke for his intellect.

 _Well_ , Arakan thought, _the general public probably didn't think of dimension-travellers when thinking of geniuses._  
  
But now that he could speak, his task of collecting information had been greatly simplified. With childlike innocence that hid his true intentions Killua had asked his father about this world. And the intrigued light in his eyes hadn't been faked, because now Killua would finally learn the source of his father's strength.  
  
"Quirks", his father had said. "I had one of the first ones."  
  
At that point Arakan's eyes narrowed, he could read way before he talked and since he could, he had done a lot of reading. And as far as he knew the first appearance of those so called quirks had been all the way back in the year 2060. Over a hundred years in the past.  
  
Thousands of thoughts ran through his mind. Then he remembered.

**All for One.**

  
  
Whenever he had read he'd always stumble upon this name.  
  
And now he had a face to the myth. His father was All for One.  
  
A man that had the ability to give quirks.  
  
In some literature Arakan had read, his father was hailed as the creator and God of Quirks. His existence alone enough to justify all and every wrongdoing.  
  
However more often than not All for One was described as the first villain in the history of Quirks. A man who could steal the strength of others and incorporate it into himself.  
  
Killua didn't know what to think.  
  
The myth might have been all made up of lies, but he had no doubt that his father was a villain for another reason.

  
After his first birthday, his father had started to go out at night. And if Arakan had been a normal child he probably would never have noticed the absence of his father. But when the mass of power that usually slept right next to him moved out of his _En-range_ , Killua was forced to wake up. It had been drilled into him.

_"Never sleep too deep."_

All of this had been part of his grueling former training. The result: Even the slightest shift of air would wake him up. Normally that would have more disadvantages than advantages, Killua however, raised as an assassin, did not need a lot of sleep. He had once been forced on a month-long mission with just two hours of sleep, he had needed to be on constant alert. It was practically given that he could function properly with a minimum amount of sleep.

  
So when his father moved to stand up from his bed, Arakan's eyes snapped open.  
  
The floorboards creaked loud in the silent room. Focusing on his breath, he pretended to be still asleep when his father loomed over him.  
  
Seconds passed. Arakan didn't move a muscle.  
  
Then his father leaned back and left the room.  
  
Just his hearing was enough to tell that the man had left the mansion for an unknown destination.  
  
Back then he already had an idea what his father was doing. The paperwork he had been allowed to read didn't reveal anything incriminating. To an outsider it would just seem like his father managed a large industry.  
  
But Killua had been taught to read in-between the lines from a young age. And as the future head of the Zoldyck family he knew just how to manage and conceal all activities of a large organization.  
  
For now Killua would give his father the benefit of the doubt.

  
  
A few hours passed.

Then his father returned.

And with him the oppressing smell of blood. Fresh blood.  
  
The familiar smell filled his nose as soon as his father stepped through the front door.

It couldn't have been his father's. His life-force felt as strong as before, it might even have been stronger. But judging from the smell there must have been a massive amount of blood lost. The front door was quite far away from his room and Killua could almost feel the stench penetrating his nose.  
  
His father moved. Towards their room. Killua strained his hearing.  
  
All for One came to an halt in front of the door.  
  
Something dripped onto the carpet in the hallway. Multiple drops.  
  
Then his father walked past heading for the large bathroom at the end of the hallway.  
  
So his father was a murderer. A villain in this world.

  
  
Killua didn't mind. _Gon would have._

  
  
His bestfriend had hated his family business, never one to like seeing Killua's bloodstained hands.  
  
For a while Arakan didn't really interact much with his father. And of course, his behavior had worried the man. But he needed time to think, time to decide what to do.  
  
Gon wasn't here with him. Usually with his calming presence Killua had managed to keep the switch off, only flipping it on when absolutely necessary. After their fight against the chimera ants his switch seemed to have loosened, it grew harder and harder to keep it off. Especially when Alluka and him had been on the run. But Killua had managed to keep it off, because he knew Gon wouldn't like it.  
  
In this world there was no Gon. And Killua could already feel the switch trying to flip back on. He had been trained to keep it on.  
  
His father in this new world didn't provide the same calming feeling Gon had.  
  
But whereas Gon didn't want his switch to flip, his father probably wouldn't care, the opposite even, he would probably embrace the fact he even had a switch.

  
It took Arakan weeks to decide. And then, on a Monday morning, he confronted his father.

  
"Dad." His father looked up, smiling at the fact he was finally talking to him again

  
"What can I do for you?", his father asked, looking back to the paperwork on his desk.

Whenever Arakan talked to his father he got the feeling the man was hiding how he truly acted.

  
In a way it seemed like someone had given him a mask and asked him to act accordingly.

  
It annoyed him.  
  
Why did his father feel the need to conceal his true self in front of his one-year old son?

  
  
"Father, you're a villain, aren't you?"

  
  
That question made his father focus. His face was void of any emotion when he turned around in his chair.  
  
Now, that his father looked serious Killua could see why All for One was a feared entity.  
  
Strong and imposing, striking white hair and cold blue eyes. He was sure that even the quirkless would be able to feel the power emitting from him.

"How come?", the villain asked, eyes oddly focused.

  
  
Arakan tilted his head a bit, as if in deep thought.

  
  
"You smell like blood." Smell was an understatement. It was as if a wave of fresh blood followed his father's every step.  
  
It reminded him of himself. Killua had always smelled like blood, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, the blood would remain.  
  
Now he had come to realise that it was because his hands were stained with blood and there was no way he could ever wash it off.  
  
Suddenly a grin crept on his father's face.

  
  
"Aren't you observant." Mockingly he clapped twice and leaned back into his office chair.  
  
"A toddler recognizing the smell of blood. How truly fascinating indeed." The grin set Killua off. He didn't know his father long enough to accurately predict what he was thinking.  
  
"Now, my little Arakan, my little hero.", his father started. "What will you do with this piece of information?"  
  
The pressure in the room increased tenfold. Arakan stood his ground. Cold glares caught in a duel.

  
  
"Let me be a villain, too."

  
  
His father's eyebrows shot up. That was certainly not what he expected Arakan to say.  
  
Killua had come to realise that crying after something that he might never get back would just exhaust him.

_Think rational, an assassin is not in need of emotions,_ a voice in his head had said.

  
  
Gon and Alluka were not part of his world anymore.  
  
It hurt. A lot. So much that it felt like he was being ripped apart.

_Hide the pain. Pain hinders you. Pain will not stop you. You are an assassin._

  
  
His hold on the switch slipped.  
  
His father was a villain. So what? He was a villain too, since birth all he learned was how to kill a person.

  
  
_Murderer._

  
_Assassin._

  
_Monster._

  
  
It would be a waste of resources not to do what one could do best. Killua could kill. Killua could be evil.  
  
And in this world, he would kill, he would be evil.  
  
This world didn't need another hero, infused with false morals and hopes.

_Emotions are not needed, Pain is to be ignored, the only thing that counts is your strength. So use it wisely._

  
  
Killua had never been a hero, he lacked the qualities to be seen as a savior.  
  
From the two of them, Gon had been the hero. He had been the brightest light Killua had ever seen. Gon's light would have illuminated this world.  
  
But it had not been Gon who was forced to live in this dimension, no, it had been Killua.  
  
And Killua was content to live in the shadows Gon had cast. Every hero's light casted shadows. And his father was the darkest shadow alive, so Killua would join his father.  
  
The dark sides were where he had been born and the dark sides Killua would probably die in.  
  
He had long since accepted this fact.  
  
Killua would not dare walk in the light on his own.  
  
Gon had dragged him by the hand, out of the darkness into the light.  
  
And his time in the light had been the greatest time of his life.  
  
But everything must come to an end.  
  
And Killua belonged to the shadows, so that was where he returned to.

_You will always be an assassin, a murderer, Kill._

  
  
Killua had been a villain.  
  
And after experiencing the light for the first and last time Arakan would return to the shadows.

  
  
After all, Arakan was a villain too.  
  



	5. Self-taught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit shorter today, sorry. But I hope you'll enjoy the chapter nonetheless!

Contrary to Killua's belief his father did not start training him right after he expressed his want to be a villain. Instead he left and didn't return for a while: he left his one-year old son alone in a gigantic mansion with not a single soul there to keep an eye on him. Arakan liked it, it meant his father trusted him. What he didn't like was that he wasn't getting any training yet. And he couldn't even ask for it since he hadn't seen his father in the last few days.

So Arakan took things into his own hands. To his own regret (and embarrassment) he was still way too short to reach the door handle, even when tiptoeing. Looking around he soon found a chair that gave him enough height to reach the door.

After that it was an easy task to get downstairs into the large living room, or as his father called it _salon_.

The room itself was rectangular in shape, though only one side held broad windows. Killua quite liked the room, there were a lot of couches and armchairs. Somehow the feeling of the room reminded him of Gon, he could imagine his bestfriend starting a pillow fight with him. Though his father probably wouldn't be a fan of that, the cushions were after all velvet.

But that was not why he came to the room. The room was spacious enough for him to properly train in. Arakan was sure his father actually had a training room, but he didn't find it when he searched for one and for now his father didn't seem to have the intention of ever teaching him. So Killua had to make do with one of the living rooms.

Settling on the soft carpet in the middle of the room, Arakan closed his eyes. There were a lot of techniques he had to relearn. For one his Nen felt even weaker than when he had first activated it back in his old world. With Arakan being the only one capable of it Nen was an advantage, a cheat per se, in this world.

Therefore he should get back to his old level of Nen mastery. His Hatsu would prove to be of great value for him.

What he didn't need his Nen for were his assassin techniques. But where his Nen techniques took practice and meditation, his assassin techniques required a great amount of time.

An assassin needed patience, they were predators, silently waiting for their prey. Killua had patience. But he didn't have time.

If he wanted to prove his father, he could be a capable villain he needed to become strong as soon as possible.

Arakan shuddered. A villain. That's what he became again.

Killua quickly refocused on the Nen pool located in his abdomen, disregarding any thoughts of Gon's disappointed face.

Letting the Nen flow freely through his body didn't prove to be a challenge, the hard part was getting it to stay in one spot.

As soon as he attempted to form _Gyo_ his hold on his Nen vanished. His brows furrowed in concentration.

It was as if his Nen gained a life on its own.

Experimentally he tried forcing only a minimum amount of Nen into his eyes. And slowly but surely his Nen moved until it settled around his eyes, _Gyo_ activating.

Arakan would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit disappointed. His aura had weakened so much that it was hard for him to keep a _Gyo_ this weak up for more than 5 minutes.

But he had to do this.

He had to prove himself.

" _You have potential_."

His father would acknowledge him.

With newfound determination he stood up.

He had no time to waste.

Slowly Killua began walking in circles around the many couches in the room, internally he cringed when he heard the soft thuds his steps made.

This new body was in no way familiar with the _Shadow Steps_.

Sighing Killua let his Nen flow back to his eyes all the while trying to muffle his footsteps.

" _You need to be the best, Kill_.", a voice whispered into his ear.

Killua shuddered, hand automatically reaching his forehead. He didn't find a needle. He had long since removed it.

It took ten rounds around the room for his steps to quiet down to nearly nothing. That didn't really satisfy him though. _Shadow Steps_ were quiet, they made you part of the night, part of the shadows.

Right now Killua needed his full concentration to stop his steps from making any noise. Grinding his teeth he started his rounds once again.

He would only be satisfied when _Shadow Steps_ became one of his passive techniques, not needed to be spared a thought to activate.

And when he eventually remastered that, he'd have time to relearn _Rhythm Echo_.

He remembered when his father had taught him the technique. In a way he had both been exhilarated and apprehensive. It wasn't every day that his father had taken the time to teach him something, it always felt like he had been acknowledged for his strength, graced with the presence of his father. On the other hand learning a new technique always meant more responsibility for him: usually there was a mission connected to the new technique. When learning _Shadow Steps_ he had been forced to pursue a target for more than three months while not being noticed. Killua had been a toddler back then, so the memories had stuck.

Back then Killua had known Sylva would force him on a mission hardly fit for people his age.

In the end Killua completed the mission almost perfectly, gaining the praise of his brother Illumi. But when he had returned to the Zoldyck mansion his father hadn't been there to welcome him back and congratulate him on the success of his mission.

Killua learned not to expect praise or acknowledgement. He had been a tool, tools did not get praised.

As Arakan was deeply lost in his memories, he didn't notice when his father entered the room.

* * *

All for One returned to his mansion around noon. He had found a new objective that piqued his interest. It was intriguing indeed. The man didn't really like it, but in the last few days he had been forced to leave his son alone more often than not.

But All for One knew of his son's intellect, there wasn't a toddler staring back at him, no, these eyes were almost his equal, challenging him and seeing right through him.

All for One loved his son.

Therefore he had hurried back when he grew bored of the villainous activities of the day.

Now, back in his mansion, he took off to search for his little genius.

Surprisingly Arakan wasn't in their room, both beds standing abandoned. Though for some reason there was a chair right in front of the door.

He was neither in his office nor in his playroom. Worry nagged at All for One, but he shoved the feeling away before it could affect him. He was not a man of emotions and he knew his son could handle himself in spite of being less than two years old.

And after a while he found his son.

Pushing the door to the salon open All for One looked inside and there he was. Arakan. The man almost sighed in relief, but held the sound back as he realised his son hadn't noticed his appearance yet.

Instead his eyes were fixed on the ground as he slowly walked circles around the room.

Without even realizing it a smile crept on the villain's face. The sight of his son reminded him of her and her carefree style of life.

Deciding he had enough of the amusing sight he cleared his throat rather loudly.

In an instant Arakan's head snapped up, doing a full-body flinch.

"Father!", the boy exclaimed quickly fixing his composure.

All for One thought it was endearing.

"Son.", he acknowledged.

The focus in his son's eyes sharpened.

"You came back.", Arakan said in a quiet voice.

"That I did.", All for One answered.

His son stared. Blue eyes almost drilling holes through him.

Then the boy opened his mouth just to close it again a second after. It seemed like he had something on his mind.

"Welcome home.", he said instead and All for One couldn't help but smile.

He truly did love his son.


	6. What defines a villain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua's inner conflict and trauma.
> 
> Society makes the villains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see there are currently 63 chapters planned and at that point we barely reached the internship/Hosu arc.
> 
> Fasten your belts, my friends, this will be a long journey.

"Come.", All for One said.   
  
Leaving the room the villain walked down the hallway, not looking back to see if his son was following.  
  
It didn't take long for Arakan to catch up to him.  
  
To All for One's interest only his own footsteps resonated through the hallway and with one glance down to his son's feet he acknowledged his new-found talent.  
  
"Good work.", he said, not looking at Arakan.  
  
The reaction was almost instantly. The boy's head snapped up, eyes filled with unhidden astonishment. Was that praise? Praise for him? It felt unreal.  
  
All for One marched on.  
  
They went past their bedroom, past Arakan's playroom, past his office.  
  
Door after door they walked, only one pair of steps to be heard.  
  
Arakan didn't recognize the part of the house they were in. His exploring hadn't taken him that far yet and for most of the time he kept to one floor, not daring to use the stairs on the end of the hallway.  
  
Now his father led him to the upper floor.   
  
Arakan followed.  
  
And after a while his father stopped in front of a wooden door. On first glance the door didn't look any different than the others in the hallway, but it didn't take Killua long to find differences.   
  
It was hardly noticeable, but the door was reinforced with metal from the inside, the slight glint on the outer corners told Killua as much.  
  
The lock was reinforced too and judging from the metal handles all over the door frame, there were definitely more than just two locks.   
  
Arakan looked up to his father searching for what laid behind the door.   
  
All for One spared his son one glance before setting his hand on the door. All it took was one simple metal-bending quirk and the door creaked open.  
  
The man stepped in, followed by his son. Now, Arakan's footstep made the slightest bit of sound. He must be distracted, All for One decided.  
  
Killua didn't notice the quiet noise his steps made, distracted by the interior of the room.  
  
Instead of wood, the walls were covered in metal and by the feel of it, not any normal metal. More than half of the walls were covered by shelves filled with books, vials and other things Killua couldn't identify. The one side of the room that didn't hold any shelves was equipped with a long silver lab-table. On it were opened notebooks, microscopes and even more vials and containers with labels that he couldn't read from the distance.   
  
But the thing that froze Arakan to the spot was the middle of the room.  
  
A wide metal table, cuffs for both hands and feet, a lamp centered directly above the table. There were scratches on the table and blood. The stains spread from the center of the table to the edges as if someone had tried to pull himself off the table.   
  
A room flashed in Killua's mind. 

_Chains hung from the ceiling, all he could see was darkness underneath the blindfold and the smell, it pierced his nose. Blood. So much of it. It was his own. "I'm sorry, father, I won't be a failure again."_  
  
Blinking Arakan brought himself back from the flashback.  
  
All for One had brought him to one of his many laboratories.  
  
"Go inside.", a strong hand pushed him further into the room.  
  
Arakan gulped, sweat clinging to the palms of his hands. This was so unlike him. Killua didn't get intimidated that easily, he didn't get scared. So why did he feel so deeply unsettled? It wasn't like he would end up on one of those tables again. Not here. Not in this world.  
  
Arakan avoided the middle of the room anyways. Instead, he walked up to the desk on the side of the room. Reaching out he took one of the notebooks strewn across the surface.   
  
"- _subject's quirk does not appear to be dependant on a living organism."_  
  
 _"High blood loss directly affects subject's connection to quirk. Advice to separate while highly sedated."_  
  
 _" -pain has no effect on-"_  
  
 _" -quirk shows no sign of-"_  
  
Arakan didn't know what to think.   
  
This was what his father did: experiment on human beings to study their quirks and take them. Everything about this was wrong, morally, ethically.   
  
Killua didn't care, no, rather he read on and on. The notebooks were filled with information, what affected quirks, were quirks weakened by the owner's death.   
  
Arakan was interested.  
  
Gon's face flashed through his mind.  
  
As if it had burned him he let go off the notebook, barely able to stop himself from taking a step back.  
  
What was he doing here? This was wrong!  
  
 _But he cares for you,_ a voice whispered.  
  
 _You want to know more about what he does,_ another said.  
  
Gon frowned in front of his eyes.  
  
 _Gon isn't here anymore. You're evil, Killua. Your father is evil too, in this world there is no need for light, _the voices grew louder.  
  
Killua suppressed all of his thoughts, his eyes carefully drawn blank.   
  
He busied himself reading the labels of the containers and vials.  
  
 _"Bone marrow, subject #3259"_  
  
 _"Scar tissue, affected by quirk #8913, subject #2947"_  
  
 _" Homocamptothecin BN 80919, produced by quirk #10388, subject #5827"_  
  
Arakan stopped reading after the twentieth vial.   
  
"Why did you bring me here?", he asked, voice nothing more than a whisper but he knew his father had heard him.  
  
"You wanted to be a villain." A simple answer.  
  
"It takes resolve, determination and purpose to be a villain." A simple answer.  
  
"Tell me, son, what defines a villain?"   
  
Arakan looked back to his father. The man had settled against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, eyes never leaving his son.  
  
"Are villains evil?", his father asked.  
  
"Are they in the wrong?"  
  
"Some are.", Killua said.  
  
"And some aren't", All for One continued.  
  
"Then what defines a hero?", his father asked.  
  
"They're light.", Killua answered instantly.  
  
"And light can blind you.", All for One said, voice not indicating any of his feelings.  
  
Arakan only hummed in acknowledgement, not saying anything.  
  
"Being a villain doesn't mean you're evil, Arakan."   
  
He took in his father's face, from his eyebrows, to the slightly twisted mouth.  
  
"Arakan, being a villain doesn't exclude being a hero."  
  
Killua frowned.  
  
"Society decides whether someone's a villain or not. They can make you into someone you never were."   
  
It was the truth, Arakan could feel it.  
  
"Then what are you, father?", Killua asked.  
  
All for One huffed.  
  
"Someone misunderstood, neither villain nor hero."  
  
Arakan hummed again.  
  
"But in this society I am a villain.", he finished.  
  
"Then they will see me as one too.", Arakan whispered, receiving a nod from his father.  
  
"Who are you then, Arakan?"  
  
"Someone misunderstood."  
  
A grin spread on his father's face.  
  
"You are indeed my son. I can see it in your eyes, you know of this world's rotten roots.", his father exclaimed.  
  
"I will teach you how to save a tree with roots so deeply rotten that the whole trunk is affected."  
  
Arakan stared. Blue eyes glinting with emotions he wouldn't be able to name.   
  
"We are the shadows, because we can't be blinded by the lights."  
  
"Yes, father.", Arakan answered, mind completely void of any voices or faces of his past.  
  
"Then you understand. Let the society call you a villain. Just remember that you, Arakan, will be the first true hero there is."  
  
All for One was exhilarated. He could feel it. His quirks vibrated, energy buzzing in his ears. His son. This was only the beginning. This was the start. This society will crumble, All for One would make sure of that.


	7. Kurogiri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing a vital character!
> 
> Drum rolls please!

The laboratory became one of the places Arakan often frequented. Hours after hours he spent sitting at the tables reading the notebooks. His back was always turned towards the table in the center of the room, he couldn't bear looking at it.   
  
Months passed.  
  
Arakan learned a lot, about the human body and its survival urges, about quirks and the way they evolved. It interested him.  
  
Sometimes his father would join him, sitting at one of the chairs, writing and studying, just at the edge of his vision.   
  
His presence comforted Killua. It stopped the thoughts that silently crept up on his mind.  
  
Sometimes they talked too, about quirks, about humans, about life. Killua liked it, a lot.   
  
It was so entirely different to the family he knew once before. 

  
  
"I will be gone for a while.", All for One said, looking up from one of the books he had been writing in.  
  
Arakan's head snapped up, mouth already opening to ask _'Why?'_  
  
"Not anything you should concern yourself with.", his father was quick to say, before he could even ask any questions.  
  
Killua frowned, what was it that his father couldn't tell him? Before, he had told him a lot about his organization and even showed him this lab they were currently in.  
  
"How long will you be gone?", Arakan asked instead.   
  
Tilting his head to the side, his father gave off the impression of considering his answer.  
  
"Could be anything ranging from one week to several months."  
  
Arakan's eyebrows shot up. His curiosity piqued. How in the world did his organized father, that always cared for the slightest details, not know how long he would be gone for? It didn't make any sense to Arakan.  
  
And was his father really planning to leave him alone for that long?   
  
Of course, he was more mature than any other two-year olds and his true nature was that of a 15-year old assassin. However his father didn't know of that.  
  
No matter how hard Killua racked his brain he couldn't seem to figure out his father's intention.  
  
"I want to introduce you to someone."  
  
If possible, Killua's eyebrows moved even higher.  
  
His father who was the epitome of doubt wanted to introduce someone to him?  
  
They lived in an enormous mansion, but not once had Killua seen any servants nor had he had a nanny.  
  
His father did not trust anyone. Killua had realized this quite early.  
  
Then who was this mysterious person his father trusted enough to meet his son?  
  
"While I'm gone, they will be taking care of you."  
  
That required a large amount of trust Arakan didn't know his father had.  
  
"Ok.", Killua answered, standing up from his seat to walk towards the door.

  
As it turned out, the person his father wanted him to meet was a cloud. Or rather shaped like a cloud. A purple cloud.  
  
Their body shifted and moved like it possessed a life of its own, though in the midst of the smoke Arakan could make out two piercing yellow eyes. Just as the rest of the body they seemed to be fading and flickering. It was intriguing.  
  
Around, what Arakan would say was his neck, a metal brace laid. Maybe the person had a physical body after all? Maybe the mutation quirk didn't go as far as transform the entire body into this cloud like shape. Killua's eyes narrowed. The brace highlighted an obvious weakness.  
  
In contrast to their face and neck, the rest of the person's body was quite ordinary: they were simply wearing a grayish vest with a white button-up-shirt underneath and to his amusement, Arakan could see a striped tie tugged into the vest.   
  
His father's warm hand settled inbetween his shoulder blades, softly pushing him forwards. 

Giving in to All for One's wish Arakan took a few steps towards the cloud before stopping and tilting his head back to look them in the face.  
  
Said cloud bowed and started introducing itself.  
  
"It's an honor, young master. My name is Kurogiri."  
  
Killua stared. The cloud, now named Kurogiri, didn't seem to have the need to blink. So their physical body wasn't connected to their eyes. Then how could he see? Was the substance his body was made out of acting as a neurotransmitter? If so, then wouldn't he be quite sensitive to outer disturbances?  
  
Killua couldn't wait to ask Kurogiri all the question burning in his mind.  
  
Instead he settled for a simple one.  
  
"Just Kurogiri?" No last names often hinted at a complicated past.  
  
"Yes, Arakan-sama.", Kurogiri said.  
  
Stealing a glance at his father's face Arakan was surprised to find a hint of satisfaction there. He didn't really like the way the man was looking at Kurogiri. What was he missing?  
  
"Please refrain from calling me Arakan-sama, just Arakan is sufficient.", Arakan said, neck slowly starting to ache from having to look up all the time.  
  
Next to him a grin spread on his father's face.  
  
Kurogiri just stood perplexed at the two-year old's vocabulary.   
  
"Of course, if that's what you prefer.", Kurogiri answered as the good servant he was.   
  
Arakan didn't quite know what to think of him. The lack of a proper face made it hard for him to get a good read on the man and he couldn't judge him by his way of talking if all he did was follow orders.  
  
But one thing Killua did notice was the fact, that at some points Kurogiri moved quite stiffly, as if unfamiliar with his body.  
  
It threw him for a loop.   
  
His father trusted this man with his son's life and that meant he had known him for a long time. Kurogiri didn't seem like a person that had just manifested their quirk and Killua was sure that such a late manifestation would be all but impossible. 

But something just threw him off. The way his father looked at Kurogiri, Kurogiri's utterly compliant body language, his father's seemingly unfound trust in Kurogiri.  
  
He hated not knowing things.  
  
"Kurogiri, as I've said before, you will be taking care of him in my absence. I expect your best services.", his father said and even though his voice seemed relaxed and nonchalant, Arakan could easily hear the threatening undertones. And by the way Kurogiri stood straight he had heard them, too.   
  
Killua had so many questions and he wasn't sure if his father would answer them when asked.  
  
"I'll be going now.", his father announced, Killua already taking steps to follow his father back out of the door. 

"But why don't you stay here, Arakan. After all, you should get to know each other better."  
  
Arakan glared at his father's knowing gaze. The man knew he didn't want to stay here. Biting back the feeling of betrayal and anger, Arakan turned back to face Kurogiri.  
  
"As you wish, father."  
  
For a while no one said anything, they just listened as his father's footsteps grew quiet with the distance.  
  
Now there were just the two of them left in the room.   
  
"What did father tell you about me?", he asked, gaze sharpening to a cold glare, daring Kurogiri to lie to him.   
  
The cloud flickered with barely concealed uneasiness.  
  
"Not much. He told me your name and age and when he was in a good mood, he would tell me stories about you.", Kurogiri began to list off. "I had not known that you were so..." He searched for the right word. "... knowledgeable at your age."   
  
At first Arakan didn't answer, busy with judging if Kurogiri had been lying. But his cloud like shape hadn't flickered or moved in any way that he deemed unnatural.  
  
"Father said I might have an intelligence quirk." Arakan knew he didn't have a quirk of that nature, but he couldn't very well tell them that he was actually a professional assassin reincarnated into the body of a newborn. Yeah, that would make him the greatest disappointment of his father's life in record time.  
  
"Wouldn't it be great if you inherited All for One?", Kurogiri asked instead.   
  
So he did know about his father's quirk. Question was just how much he knew. Did he know about his father's history? Did he know the details of the All for One quirk?   
  
"Yes, father would be quite proud I believe." For now Arakan decided not to let his doubt show through that much. Distanced but not cold, trusting but not naïve.  
  
"Can you read yet?"  
  
What an unnecessary question. Arakan frowned. Was this just courtesy or genuine interest?  
  
"I started reading months ago and a while back I learned how to write.", Arakan answered, trying to keep his information-output to the minimum.  
  
"Did your father teach you?"  
  
Arakan felt like he was being interrogated. But he still couldn't quite seem to grasp Kurogiri's true intention, for genuine interest the questions were too flat-rated, but it didn't really seem like he was following an ulterior motive either.  
  
"No, I taught myself.", he said and couldn't help but let a bit of his pride slip into his tone. He didn't sit hours at his father's desk to stay modest about his skills.  
  
Kurogiri hummed in what Killua would interpret as curiosity.  
  
"Would you like me to teach you?", the cloud asked after a while of consideration.  
  
Killua's frown deepened. Had his father told Kurogiri to suggest that or was that of his own accord? Arakan was deeply confused. It annoyed him. His father was hard, almost impossible, to read, but he couldn't even try with Kurogiri since there wasn't even anything to read to begin with.  
  
"What could you possibly teach me?" Arakan didn't mean to offend Kurogiri, he just couldn't think of anything he needed to be taught. After all, he still had all the knowledge of his old world.  
  
"Do you even know anything about the world?", Kurogiri asked and Killua instantly noticed the mocking tones.   
  
What was that even for a question, of course he knew how the worl-... He did not.   
  
His old world had been completely different than this world.   
  
He hadn't seen much of it yet, but what he had seen wasn't similar to his old world in any way.  
  
Ashamed he lowered his head, hair shadowing his eyes and the tips of his ears glowing red. "No, I don't.", he whispered.  
  
"Don't worry, Arakan! I did not expect you to know. While you are definitely a one-of-a-kind genius, you are still just two years old, so don't be ashamed to admit when you don't know something."  
  
That only helped to color his whole face red.  
  
But at least now he understood Kurogiri's goals: he was here to teach him since his father couldn't while he was gone for god-knows how long. Killua could live with that. An assassin was nothing without information. And if he was willingly given vital information, he didn't even consider refusing.  
  
"Then please teach me, Kurogiri.", Killua said, lifting his head back up to look at the man.  
  
In the depths of Kurogiri's face the clouds swirled to vaguely represent a smile or a grin. 

"Of course.", he said. 

" _Anything_ for Sensei's son."


	8. Player Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I searched for dust puns/jokes, turns out all jokes about dust are completely stupid.
> 
> So instead: -please insert joke of your choice here-
> 
> And now, enjoy the new chapter! :)

"Arakan.", Kurogiri's stern voice said. "You're not paying attention." Now his voice sounded disappointed. The man sighed.  
  
Arakan just hummed. Chin held up by his hands, elbows propped up on the table.   
  
Kurogiri sighed again.  
  
"Tell me what's on your mind."   
  
Arakan's attention shifted to the man, gaze leaving the window for a short moment.   
  
"Father is gone for more than three months now.", he said, looking back out of the window.  
  
Putting down the rag he had used for cleaning one of the shelves, Kurogiri turned towards the two-year old.   
  
"You're worried about him.", he stated and Arakan shook his head.  
  
"He's strong, I'm not worried.", he answered. Killua knew his father could defend himself perfectly fine. That was not what was on his mind.  
  
It seemed like Kurogiri couldn't read his mind either. "Then tell me what's bothering you."   
  
His voice had grown soft and Killua hated the fact that Kurogiri treated him like the toddler he actually wasn't. He didn't need to be pampered or comforted, what he needed was getting trained.  
  
"He said he wouldn't be gone for more than two months. He lied.", Arakan said, the last part nothing more than a whisper to himself, but Kurogiri had heard him nonetheless.   
  
"You know your father, don't you? I bet he has found something that intrigued him and now he can't return until he figured out all there is to it." Yeah, that was how his father was like. Killua liked comparing him to a magpie, easily attracted to things. Well, he wouldn't say attracted. It was more like his father wanted to dissect everything that caught his eyes to see how it worked.  
  
But Arakan didn't say anything, instead he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.   
  
Kurogiri shook his head, amused at the boy's antics.   
  
"Are you done with your work?", the man asked, seeing as Arakan didn't make a move to pick up his pen again.   
  
Killua just pushed the sheet of paper towards the edge of the table. That was answer enough.  
  
"Good, I'll check your answers as soon as I'm done here." Kurogiri just continued their one-sided conversation, wiping down one of the tables for the third time that day.   
  
For a while the only thing that could be heard in the room were Kurogiri's slow methodical wipes and Killua's soft breathing.   
  
"Hey, Kurogiri?" The wiping stopped.  
  
"Yes, Arakan?" Killua's eyes opened. "You're not going to leave me someday, are you?", he asked.  
  
Killua didn't have any fears or phobias, in this world at least. Back in his old world Killua feared Gon's death and he had feared Alluka's death, but that was as far as it went. Killua lived for them so it felt only natural for him to keep them safe. Their death meant he had failed his duty and had lost his reason to live.  
  
In this world he couldn't bring himself to fear. His father was strong. Stronger than most people in this world. He was a villain, of course. And that profession attracted danger like a moth to a flame, but Killua didn't worry.   
  
The only problem Killua faced was attachment. He was an assassin, trained not to show, or even better, feel, any emotions. Affection wasn't anything he concerned himself with.   
  
But here? Suddenly he had people who willingly showered him in affection, caring for him in a way only the people closest to you could.   
  
In this world there wasn't anyone keeping him from getting attached. Here no one forbid him from showing emotions. He didn't fear in this world. He dreaded the day those people who somehow cherished him as one of their own left him.  
  
His father was gone. He had said he would return, but something inside him wouldn't believe that. There were voices telling him he wouldn't come back, not to a son like himself. He'd rather go and never return.  
  
Kurogiri couldn't leave him too.  
  
They had all already left him. Gon did, Alluka did too, his father did. Not Kurogiri. Yet.  
  
"I would never even think of leaving.", Kurogiri said.   
  
Killua turned his head to look at the man. And Kurogiri almost flinched back at the boy's dull eyes. Gone were the sapphires filled with life.   
  
Somehow Killua couldn't bring himself to believe him.  
  
"Why did you think that?" Kurogiri was concerned. Arakan had never shown any signs of having any abandonment issues. He didn't even know how that was possible, the boy wasn't even three yet!   
  
"Dad left me and sometimes you're leaving me too.", Arakan whispered, eyes never leaving Kurogiri's.   
  
Within the blink of an eye Kurogiri had dragged Arakan out of his chair and into his arms, tightly pressing him into his chest.  
  
"Arakan. You're the person Sensei loves the most on this planet. He would rather die than leaving you on your own. Please never believe anything else. You're his dearest treasure.", Kurogiri spoke, words filled with nothing but the truth. "And for me, your father has assigned me other duties to fulfill during his absence. Never think I would abandon you."  
  
Killua didn't say anything, he just let the warmth of Kurogiri's body seep into him. That was enough comfort for him.

  
  
After that day Kurogiri always made sure Arakan was in the right head space before starting his lessons. And on the particularly bad days he would sit down with the child and just tell him stories he knew of. Sometimes they were made up and sometimes they spoke of the real world. But no matter what they were about, they always calmed Arakan down.   
  


* * *

  
  
"Kurogiri.", Arakan said one day. And said man already feared for the worst.   
  
Killua looked up from the exercise he had been working on, pen rolling out of his hand onto the table.   
  
"The assignments you told me about... You know, the ones father told you to do.", the boy started, pushing the pen around with his fingertips.  
  
Kurogiri halted, the feather duster held in his hand stopping midair. "Yes, what of them?"  
  
"Do they require you to change your vest?", Killua asked, a cat-like grin spreading on his face.   
  
Kurogiri looked down towards the vest he was wearing. It was a simple grey one with eight buttons.   
  
"How did you get that idea?", Kurogiri asked, truthfully surprised at the question.  
  
Killua sat up straight, leaning over the table to get a closer look at the vest.  
  
"Well, every day after one of your assignments you show up with a new vest.", he explained, puncturing his words with pricks of his fingers into the soft material of Kurogiri's clothes.  
  
And if the man would have had eyebrows, they would have been raised.  
  
"Your father already told me, but you're truly observant! How did you figure it out?", Kurogiri asked, body flickering with joy.  
  
Killua couldn't help but reciprocate the joy radiating from the man. "While they might look the same, the clothes quite differ the closer you look. The longer you wear clothes the more you can see the wear on them. Things such as folds or tiny tears appear. But your vests always looked like they were freshly bought. And they smelled new too!", Arakan explained while moving his hands around like he was a teacher explaining the most basic things.   
  
"What an astonishing observation! Well done!", Kurogiri exclaimed, patting Arakan's fluffy white hair. And Killua couldn't help but lean into the touch.  
  
"But yes, during my assignment I care for a charge of Sensei-" Killua interrupted him.   
  
"I didn't know father had another child!"  
  
Kurogiri laughed, slightly shaking his head. "Don't misunderstand. The boy isn't Sensei's son, he's more like a protegé."   
  
Now Killua was interested in meeting this boy. Who would his father take as a protegé and why? What could he do that Killua couldn't?  
  
"And his quirk is a rather destructive one, that he doesn't really have any control over.", Kurogiri continued.  
  
Killua frowned. If the boy already had a quirk, he was definitely older than him. But when had his father taken the time to pick him up? Killua didn't understand. 

  
  
"Let me meet him!"

  
Kurogiri didn't answer instantly. He just stared at him for a bit before lifting his gaze.  
  
"Sensei didn't tell me to keep you both apart, so I guess it would be fine...", the man muttered, head tilting to the side.   
  
Excitement welled up inside Killua.  
  
"Come here." Arakan took the invitation, almost sprinting towards Kurogiri as he worked on opening a warp gate.   
  
When Killua had first learned about Kurogiri's quirk he had been amazed. The quirk had so many uses! And to Kurogiri's despair and Killua's delight he had spent the whole day pestering Kurogiri and asking him things about his quirk.

  
When they stepped out of the portal, gone was the luxurious mansion, replaced by what looked like a simple apartment in one of those concrete blocks, even if it was a bit run-down. They had arrived in the middle of the flat's hallway.  
  
From behind one of the doors loud music blasted, and Killua recognized it as one of the battle themes of a video game.   
  
Still looking around he noticed that the floor was unusually dusty, in the corners there were even piles of dust as if someone had just moved the dust out of the way. Knowing Kurogiri and his urge to keep the mansion clean, Killua didn't understand why it was so dirty in here.   
  
"Where exactly are we?", Killua asked, looking up at Kurogiri.  
  
"That is not important right now." 

Right then, his father didn't trust him with that information for whatever reason. 

  
  
"Shigaraki Tomura!", Kurogiri exclaimed suddenly and rather loudly too. Arakan held back a full-body flinch.

But what intrigued him was the fact that this mysterious boy shared his name. Somehow that didn't sit right with him. He wasn't a Shigaraki, so why was he named like one.   
  
With Kurogiri's shout the music in the room stopped, presumably as the player pressed pause.    
  
The door creaked open. Killua held his breath.

  
  
The first thing he saw were red high-top sneakers followed by a leg clad in dark blue pants and then, out of the door stepped a boy more than a head taller than him. The boy's hair was rather long and a pale blue in color. Since his head was tilted forwards it shadowed his face and made it hard for Killua to see anything besides the pale blue curtain.  
  
"Kurogiri, you said you were coming back tomor-", the boy cut himself off. Red eyes meeting blue ones.  
  
"Who's that?", he growled, hands tensing at his sides, body shifting slightly back.  
  
"Shigaraki Tomura, let me introduce Shigaraki Arakan, Sensei's son.", Kurogiri said, pointing at the small child standing next to him, barely reaching past his knees.  
  
Tomura's eyes grew wide. This was his Sensei's true son, the one he lived to protect.   
  
The boy didn't look like much. He was tiny and still as chubby as expected from a toddler. The only thing indicating his relation to Sensei were his white hair and the piercing blue eyes. Tomura didn't think much of him. All for One would be better off choosing him as a successor than a pudgy little toddler. 

"How old are you?", the boy asked and his voice sounded as annoying as Tomura expected.   
  
"What do you care?", he sneered, hands twitching again. Belated he noticed that he had left his gloves in his room.  
  
Arakan, that was his name, sighed and took a step forward.   
  
"I don't care what you think of me, but I asked you a simple question, really. I thought it was simple enough that even someone like you could have understood.", he said, voice monotonous as if he was just asking for the weather instead of insulting someone he had just met.  
  
Tomura's mouth opened, but not a single tone came out. Wasn't this just a toddler? How could he speak like that? What had they been teaching him?  
  
"He's seven, Arakan.", Kurogiri answered in his stead.   
  
The tiny boy sighed again and looked up to the man. "I didn't ask you, but thanks anyway."  
  
Then he turned back to him and Tomura almost took a step back, already expecting another harsh insult.   
  
Instead the boy held his hand towards him and started talking again. 

"Kurogiri already said it, but I'm Shigaraki..." He made a weird pause. "... Arakan. I'm two, turning three in a few months. Not really nice to meet you, but whatever.", he said, still holding his hand out to him.  
  
Had Kurogiri not told the boy about his quirk? Unsure what to do he looked over to Kurogiri, but the man was completely focused on Arakan.  
  
And for a moment Tomura imagined Arakan's face as he tried shaking his hand while Decay attacked his body. What was it to him. Sensei wasn't here right now and Kurogiri wouldn't do more than scold him for a bit. And he couldn't stand that Arakan boy anyway, so why not give him a _friendly_ welcome. 

Tomura's lips stretched into a grin, dry skin cracking under the force.   


  
Then he reached out to grasp Arakan's outstretched hand.


	9. Harsh words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case - possible TW: Blood (not really gore but better safe than sorry)
> 
> Btw, should I do a short chapter recap in the summary or is that unnecessary?

Killua was all too familiar with pain. 

It was like a silent companion for him. Wherever he went, pain followed. In the darkest times of his life he could rely on pain to keep him company. Pain couldn't betray him, pain couldn't tear his heart apart. So, in a way, pain reassured him, grounded him. He was still human. He could still feel. The darkness hadn't frozen him yet.  
So when pain blossomed in his hand all Arakan could do was stare as the hand tightly clasped in Tomura's disintegrated into dust.   
  
It was an interesting sight to see.

Slowly his skin peeled itself apart, crumbling into tiny flakes that sank to the ground between them. Underneath his skin, red flesh pulsated, blood pooling at the patch of missing skin, then dropping to the floor and coloring the collected dust a vibrant red.   
It hurt, a lot. So badly that all he could do to keep himself from screaming in agony was bite down onto his lips until he tasted blood.   
  
Tomura didn't let go of his hands, even when his own hand came in contact with the blood. With a gleeful expression on his face he tightened his hold, hands making squelching sounds under the applied pressure.   
  
Killua had forgotten: this body was so unlike his own. It lacked muscle memory, strength and pain tolerance. Pain wasn't anything that kept him from fighting, but now it almost brought him to his knees. Without even wanting to his healthy hand came up to clutch at his forearm, desperate to stop the pain that ate at his arm.   
  
The blood continued to drip down onto the floor, spreading to the wooden floor panels. The disintegration spread. They could watch as Arakan's hand rapidly fell apart, first his palm, then the quirk attacked his fingers. His pinky crumbled, ring finger, middle finger, index finger and then his thumb.   
Tears shot to his eyes, the pain unbearable. Body suddenly flushed with adrenaline Arakan wrenched the remains of his hand out of Tomura's hand, cradling them to his chest as if they would continue falling apart. He didn't say anything, breath coming out in erratic pants.   
  
Tomura's hand still hung outstretched in midair. His expression twisted, a gleeful scorn morphing into a look of pure and utter dread. Too late had he realised what he'd just done. Merely seconds had passed but Kurogiri had been too late to interfere, only now standing between them as the damage had already been done.   
  
The flickering form of Kurogiri's mist blocked Killua's sight on his father's protegé, instead his eyes were fixated on the back of his grey vest. Static filled his ears, his body numb in contrast to the excruciating pain he had felt earlier. He didn't hear what Kurogiri said, just saw how he had grabbed Tomura's shoulders, shaking him as if that would reverse the damage. Tomura's eyes shone with fear so strong it became the only thing Killua could focus on. The boy's face had grown pale, nearly as white as the walls surrounding them. His mouth was torn open as if he had been the one to lose his hand.   
Arakan didn't feel anything at the sight, not anger, not pain, nor some sort of malicious joy.  
His gaze sank down to the stump he had once called his right hand. The sight made the pain hit him again like a freight train. There was so much blood, the only thing he could see was blood. It gushed out like someone had left the tap running. Then fear grabbed him. He knew so much about a human life, how easily it could be extinguished. A human needed blood and his wound looked a lot like it would cause excessive blood loss. Would he die here? Not even three years after being _reborn_?   
And suddenly a strong calm washed over him. Hadn't he wanted to die? Wasn't this what would free him of this world?   
On some nights Killua had entertained the thought that, maybe, if he died in this world he could get back to his own, could get back to Gon and Alluka.   
But now that the pain cursed through his body and the blood dropped down, it didn't quite feel like that would happen. After death came nothing. Death was the final stop. Final destination. His train wouldn't get him anywhere else, he would be forced to get off.   
  
For how long had he been standing here now? He lifted his gaze again, but Kurogiri still hadn't turned to him, hands still clamped onto Tomura. 

_Huh?_ Killua thought,  _Seems like not much time passed._

  
He hated how he was feeling right now. Everything was slow and it felt hard to form coherent thoughts. He was really dying now. That was it and it had been fun while it lasted, but everything good must come to an end.   
The end. He was so tired of the end. Everything ended. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He didn't want this to end. The thought alone driving tears into his eyes again. 

  
  
From the corner of his eyes something moved. He couldn't think straight, but as far as he knew Kurogiri, Tomura and himself had been the only ones present in the apartment. The former stood right in front of him.   
  
It took a lot of effort to turn his head and in an afterthought he wondered how he was still standing, the blood still hadn't stopped.   
  
As far as he could remember the walls had been white, while not pristine and occasionally flecked with yellow they had not been black. Now however the wall to his left was nothing more than a black swirling vortex. The blood loss must have gotten to him. How pathetic. He hadn't been like that when the dart-playing chimera ants had almost gotten him. His current state made him feel worthless, not being able to think or even move straight. He visibly shuddered. Back home being useless hadn't been accepted.   
  
The vortex caught his attention again, the swirling having picked up in pace. 

  
And then, out of the middle, someone stepped out.

Killua didn't recognize him at first. Patent leather shoes reflecting every light source, black suit without even the slightest wrinkles and black tie pulled tight around the neck. The person's face was distorted with nothing short of pure fury, wrath like none other possessed. And even though his mind was foggy he could feel the waves of power rolling off the man. This person was angry and whatever had made him angry would probably not see the light of another day.   
  
Arakan hadn't recognized him because he had never seen such an expression on his face, but this person was without a doubt his father, All for One. And he did not look amused. 

  
Killua's head throbbed in pain. 

  
  
His father didn't even need seconds to take the situation in, focus zeroing in on the bleeding arm held tightly to his chest.   
  
The distance was crossed easily and with a green glow of All for One's hand he could watch as his body repaired itself. First the blood stopped, steady flow decreasing into drops and drying up. Then the flesh grew, out of the stump the red mass protruded, bending and shifting as if it couldn't decide a form yet. As the mass moved more and more details grew on the appendage. Killua could see his fingers, skin wrapping around them and nails pushing out of it.   
Within a blink his whole hand had been restored.   
  
With the impromptu healing, his mind cleared. No longer did he feel the fog, vision sharpening once again, breath calming down to soft inhales.   
  
His father's quirks were so unlike anything he had seen, the only think coming close being the Angel Breath card found in Greed Island. It's regenerative power comparable to one of his father's healing quirks. Nonetheless, Killua was astonished. A deep feeling of gratitude settled around his heart.   
  
Confirming his son's well-being had been All for One's primary goal. Whenever he left the house he would always mark Arakan with three of his quirks: _Detection, Alert_ and _Guard_. While _D_ _etection _allowed him to always know of his location, _Alert_ would notify him of any immediate danger near him. Now, _Guard_ was a slightly more complicate quirk, as its name implied it acted as a guard to the danger _Alert_ would detect. However the quirk had one decisive disadvantage: _Guard_ would only protect the one it was cast on from dangers the quirk-owner himself saw as a threat and enemy. _Guard_ was his own quirk, one he had gotten quite earlier and it had accompanied him for most of his life. And he had never seen Tenko as a threat, not with his mind in a state like that and whatever way he looked at it his quirk _Decay_ could never harm him anymore than maybe a fly could.   
This had been a mistake he'd made. His son was not as strong as him. 

_Yet,_ his mind supplied.

And what was merely a nuisance for him could be more than a lethal threat to the small boy. A threat _Guard_ would not protect him from.   
  
Though that alone did not stop him for being absolutely livid at the fact that his son had been gravely hurt while Kurogiri could have prevented that.   
  
Both Kurogiri and Tomura had grown quiet, the boy was looking at the ground, obviously shaking in his shoes. 

  
"Explain what happened here." His voice cold and commanding. 

  
Kurogiri prepared to explain, mist flickering in uneasiness, but Tomura got ahead of him.   
  
"I'm sorry, Sensei! I just tried to shake hands with Arakan, but my hold on _Decay_ slipped!", the boy blatantly lied, upper body bowing down almost at 90 degree.   
  
All for One's gaze didn't leave the boy. 

  
  
"Stand up." 

  
  
Tomura immediately obeyed, relief visible on his face, thinking he had just gotten off easy.    
  
Then his head snapped to the left, red hand print burning on the boy's cheek. 

  
"Do not lie to me, boy. Do not test my patience." 

  
  
Wide-eyed Tomura turned back to All for One, hand reaching up to cradle his cheek. Against his will his mouth opened and he began to tell the whole story. All the while All for One's face didn't even twitch, all he did was stare as his protegé shamefully admitted to his feelings and actions coming out of it. When he finished explaining, he didn't dare raise his head again, tears of shame burning in his eyes.    
  
"Thank you for telling me the truth.", All for One said and Tomura had to bite his lips, he had not done it willingly and the man knew that all too well.

"However, I cannot understand your motives. Jealously? Envy? Simple hate? Arakan didn't do anything to warrant the pain you inflicted on him. Is it because he is my son? Does it bother you that much?" 

Opening his eyes to retort something, Tomura got cut off again. 

"Do not interrupt me right now, you have already disappointed me enough today. I did not expect you, _especially_ you, to use your quirk to hurt someone.  
Do you not remember what you had done when I picked you up? The look on your face? The feeling that just wouldn't leave you? The blood on your hands? Do you not even carry an ounce of gratitude in you?" Tomura violently flinched back, breath hitching.   
  
"I'm sorry, Sensei, I didn't mean to, I just-" He stumbled over his words. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He fell down to his knees, forehead pressed against the floorboards.   
  
"It is not me you should be apologizing to.", All for One simply said, stepping aside to grant Arakan sight of the kneeling Tomura.   
  
Tomura gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm truly sorry, Arakan. Please forgive me, my actions caused you pain and were unnecessary and uncalled for. I let my personal feelings affect my rational thinking and I hope you understand that and will look passed my faults.", he mumbled, voice growing hoarse at the end.   
  
Killua didn't know what to respond, most of the time people didn't apologize to him and when they did it never felt genuine. While he couldn't really tell if that were Tomura's genuine feelings, the apology seemed to be at least given some thought. Slowly his now healed hand sank down to his side.   
"It's fine, father healed it, it doesn't hurt anymore.", he decided on saying, still keeping an emotional distant to the clearly unstable boy.  
All for One nodded in approval.   
  
Then the man turned to Kurogiri.  
"You did not fulfill your duties and while you might be one of my most trusted subordinates I will not hesitate to get rid of you if you prove to be of no use to me. Be aware of that."  
The mist only nodded solemnly, hands clutched together in front of himself, a sign of submission.  
All for One's gaze sharpened again, this time directing his words at both Kurogiri and Tomura.   
  
"If I ever feel his life-force that weak again, your own force will make up for it. Do you understand?"   
  
Killua didn't even need to hear their answers to know what they were going to be. These two people were loyal to his father and nothing would ever change that.   
  
However as his father pulled him into his chest, wrapped his arms around him and whispered reassurances into his ears, Arakan couldn't bring himself to listen. All his focus staying on Tomura, who had stood up from the ground and was now glaring daggers at them, or more specifically, _him_.

Despite all that had just occurred, Shigaraki Tomura still despised Shigaraki Arakan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quirks mentioned or used by All for One in this chapter:
> 
> \- Guard: protects selected person from dangers evaluated as a threat by the quirk-owner  
> \- Alert: notifys user if a selected person is in immediate danger  
> \- Detection: informs user of the location of a selected person  
> \- Growth spurt: forcefully regrows lost limbs, can't heal burned off stumps/dead cells  
> \- Apollo's Guide: prevents up to three people in a radius of 20 meters from lying  
> \- Snake's tongue: forces a selected person to only speak the truth for up to 30 minutes


	10. Bloody presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 - Recap:  
> "If I ever feel his life-force that weak again, your own force will make up for it. Do you understand?" 
> 
> Killua didn't even need to hear their answers to know what they were going to be. These two people were loyal to his father and nothing would ever change that. 
> 
> However as his father pulled him into his chest, wrapped his arms around him and whispered reassurances into his ears, Arakan couldn't bring himself to listen. All his focus staying on Tomura, who had stood up from the ground and was now glaring daggers at them, or more specifically, him.
> 
> Despite all that had just occurred, Shigaraki Tomura still despised Shigaraki Arakan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again TW: blood
> 
> Don't worry, everything happening in this fanfic is well thought-out and happens for a reason :)

After the _incident_ , as Killua now called it, he didn't really see the other Shigaraki often. 

For one, they didn't live together and the fact that Kurogiri had to warp them over every time made it seem like they were quite a few miles apart. And even if they had been living together, he was just sure that Tomura would have avoided him like the plague.   
But when he did see him, mostly when his father took him along to go see the other boy, he would only catch a glimpse of him.

  
" _While_ _you might not enjoy his company, you know I don't do anything without reason. So please bear with it until the time has come."_

  
He had wanted to ask, _the time for what?_ but in the end, didn't say anything. Now, however the itch caused by his lack of knowledge often kept him from sleep.   
He still didn't say anything. He just endured it and accompanied his father whenever the man called.   
In the other's apartment he would just sit in the living room on the couch that had probably seen better days and stare blankly at the walls. All for One would always go down the hallway. He didn't know what they were doing. He wanted to know. Of course. But his father didn't want him to know. So he remained in the dark.   
  
He didn't hate visiting Tomura, after all, he didn't need to get in contact with the boy. 

It just grew boring quite fast, the only real positive thing about the visits were his now relearned nail manipulations. 

It had taken him a lot of effort, but now, with a lot of focus and control on the inner workings of his body, his nails could shift into razor-sharp claws within the blink of an eye. 

  
Then some more time had passed. 

  
  
His third birthday came. 

  
  
They celebrated in the mansion.

  
Someone had decorated the whole house. 

They didn't have any butlers or maids so Killua suspected it had been the work of one of his father's many quirks. He decided just to not question it anymore.   
In the hallways colorful garlands hung and golden balloons floated in their own room forming the words _Happy Birthday._  
It was unnecessarily excessive. 

He hadn't ever celebrated his birthday like that. While he probably could have as it wasn't like the Zoldycks lacked the money to throw huge parties; for one he wasn't allowed so have such a party and he didn't even want one, so back then he'd never seen the point of celebrating like it was the last time you could do so.   
  
Now, however, somehow a warm feeling spread at the thought that someone had put so much effort into creating this birthday party for him. His lips almost lifted up to a smile, but it was gone as soon as it came and the emotionless mask fell back in place.   
  
The focus of the celebration was none other than the ballroom in the middle of the mansion. It was on the ground floor but the ceilings reached all the way up the roof. It was grandiose. The chandeliers hung high above sparkled with jewels of all sizes and shone their warm light down on the inhabitants of the room. Usually the space in the middle of the room was kept free as it was the dance floor, but as Arakan opened the door, that was just as huge as the room, he saw that now a long table sat in the middle of the dance floor on top of a red velvet carpet.   
Instantly his eyes locked onto the cake that towered over him.   
The sight only helping him remember he had one of the worst sweet tooth one could have. Drool gathered in his mouth.   
  
And then the door opened behind him. The sound ripping him from the trance he had almost been in.   
It took all his willpower to turn away from the cake to see who had entered.   
  
"Seems like you found here by yourself, Arakan.", his father said, voice resonating through the entire ballroom.   
  
All for One had changed his outfit, instead of one of the button-up-shirts he usually wore when he wasn't working, he was clad in a suit just as white as their hair.  
Killua himself had been forced to wear some sort of white blouse with buffy sleeves, that he had found on his bed shortly after waking up that day. He had the suspicion that both his father's suit and his own attire were schemed by Kurogiri.  
The mist-user stood slightly behind the imposing figure of his father. The usually grey vest replaced by a pristine white smoking jacket.   
Then his gaze wandered further and locked onto red eyes.   
  
Internally he groaned. 

  
  
His father had invited Tomura. 

  
  
The boy's shaggy hair had been pulled back into a small ponytail and he wore a blouse similar to Arakan's own. 

  
Now he just knew the clothes were Kurogiri's doing. 

  
  
"Why don't you two unpack your presents, Arakan?", his father asked, but his tone already revealed that Killua wasn't allowed to deny.   
  
But now that his father spoke of presents Killua's attention shifted towards the pile of neatly wrapped gifts stacked in one of the corners of the room. They were a lot and all varied in shape and size. He wasn't usually one to be excited for things like this, he didn't really celebrate his birthday either, but a certain curiosity gnawed at his mind, what could his father have gotten him?   
  
He didn't wish for anything and he hadn't talked about presents with his father either. A skateboard would definitely be a nice gift, but his father would have no reason to give him one. As far as he could see there wasn't even a box shaped so that it could hide a skateboard. Besides a skateboard, Killua couldn't think of anything else that would be of use to him. 

Desperately he racked his brain, did he ever say anything to his father that might have hinted at a potential gift idea? He couldn't remember. It frustrated him.   
  
His head throbbed briefly in pain.   
  
When the pain ebbed away Arakan had realized that both his father and Kurogiri had taken seats at the table and were currently talking, though Kurogiri looked more like he was giving a report of the past few days.   
  
Tomura just stared at him. He didn't say anything and while he didn't even try to apologize, he at least didn't touch him again. 

The air was tense somehow.

  
In his mind Killua cursed his father. What had led the man to the idea that Arakan and this boy would ever get along? It felt like trying to mix oil with water, they were just too different. And while Killua might look like a three-year old he certainly wasn't and he did not want to deal with a spoiled, snobbish eight-year old that had the hobby of destroying hands.   
  
The pain flared up again, but when Killua lifted his hands to massage his temples it was already gone.   
  
Arakan sighed. It was his birthday, he wasn't supposed to feel like he just came down with a cold.   
  
"Try to not destroy my presents.", Killua said to Tomura causing a sneer to form on the boy's face. "Best not move your hands at all.", the three-year old added in what seemed to be a nonchalant afterthought.   
  
Then, without gauging Tomura's expression, he walked towards the pile of presents.   
  
Absent-minded he lifted his hand again to clutch at his head. The headache had returned, pounding loud in his ears.   
  
Closing his eyes he rubbed harshly against his lids until colorful spots danced across his vision.

What was wrong with him? He'd never been a sickly kid, not when not even poisons could do him harm.   
  
_This world has different rules_ , Killua reminded himself.   
  
His next breath came out as a rasp and ended in a cough.   
  
For a short moment he felt his father's gaze on him.   
  
"Don't cough in my direction.", Tomura said, a disgusted sound coming from the back of his throat. And just to spite him Killua faked another cough towards the boy.   
  
His lungs felt raw and Killua thought he tasted blood on his tongue.   
  
Something strange was going on and he couldn't seem to figure out what it was. 

  
  
"Are you just gonna stare at them or are you opening them?", Tomura snarled, patience running thin as the younger boy seemed spaced out.   
  
Focusing back on the present, Killua held back a remark and just chose to grab one of the broad boxes of the pile.   
In the background, his father and Kurogiri had grown quiet.   
  
The box itself didn't feel heavy, but when he softly shook it something inside rolled around. A frown creased his eyebrows.   
  
Ripping the wrapping paper away revealed a black cardboard box and soon enough Killua had a wide dartboard in his hands.  
Unknowingly a smile crept on his face.   
  
He remembered his butler Gotoh showing him one of his dart boards when he had been around four. The game had instantly piqued his interest and soon grew to a pleasant pastime. Therefore, it hadn't taken him longer than two years to master the game.   
  
Killua had no idea how his father knew of his love for playing dart, but right now he didn't care to think about that, the joy he currently felt overwhelmed any rational thoughts.   
  
The board itself looked like every other, the black outer circle, green and red flecked panels and the white ones in-between. Softly he traced the inner circle with his fingers. He already knew that this would be something he would greatly treasure in the future.   
  
His eyes roamed over the different colors, the red, the green, the black and the white. Then he stopped at one of the white panels. There were red drops on the otherwise clean panel. Confused, Killua stared at the tiny circles. Was this the pattern of the board?   
  
His head throbbed.   
  
And then, before his eyes, another red drop joined the others on the board. And then another.   
  
Suddenly he was hyper-aware of everything happening around him. There was something warm running down from his nose over his lips. His hand wiped it away and when he looked at it, the back of his hand had red smears on it. 

  
His nose was bleeding. 

  
Just as he was about to turn his head towards his father his throat began to itch and a cough escaped his mouth. But in contrast to the coughs before, this one didn't stop after a second and it took Killua a few tries to regain his breath. 

Everything hurt. 

  
His hand came up to his mouth. 

Now both hands were stained red. 

  
  
There was blood on his hands again. 

  
His head throbbed. 

  
The dartboard hit the ground. His hands desperately tried to stop the blood flowing out of both his nose and his mouth.   
  
Eyes wide with panic he turned to his father, but the man was already at his side, hand gripping his arm in an almost painful grasp.   
  
All for One's lips were moving but Killua couldn't hear a sound.   
  
He tried saying something but what came out sounded more like a suffocating gurgle.   
  
He couldn't breathe. His lungs contracted painfully. 

  
  
"D- dad...", he rasped out, blood gushing passed his lips, teeth already stained red. Why wasn't he doing anything? Why wasn't he healing him?

  
  
In all honesty it felt like his intestines were dissolving. 

  
  
What in the world was happening to him?

_I'm dying_ , Killua thought and then the world grew black as he fell unconscious.


	11. Finding yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 - Recap:  
> "D- dad...", he rasped out, blood gushing passed his lips, teeth already stained red. Why wasn't he doing anything? Why wasn't he healing him?
> 
> In all honesty it felt like his intestines were dissolving. 
> 
> What in the world was happening to him?
> 
> I'm dying, Killua thought and then the world grew black as he fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might even be my favorite chapter so far... Almost 3K words! 
> 
> possible TW: slight panic attack/anxiety

The room was empty. He wasn't sure if it was a room. It was a space at least.   
Indifferent. Unchangeable. Timeless.   
  
It was so bright that it hurt his eyes even through his closed eyelids. But when he opened his eyes the room was dark. 

  
Everything felt contradictory. 

  
He couldn't tell the color of the room, it appeared bright and dark at the same time, colorful and blank, vibrant and pale. 

  
  
The only thing in his focus was a figure standing ahead of him.   
  
In contrast to the shifting space they were in, the person was shaped clearly.   
  
Arakan could see them right in front of him, could make out even the most miniscule detail of their face. And it wasn't just any face that stared back at him. 

  
It was his very own. 

  
  
But this wasn't him. This was Killua. And he wasn't fully Killua anymore, he was Arakan.   
  
Killua grinned, a sharp smile against pale skin.   
  
"Who are you?", Arakan asked even though the person felt as familiar as no one had ever before. It felt like looking at a distorted mirror. Different, but still himself.   
  
"I am you.", Killua answered, head tilting to the side and white hair shadowing his eyes. 

  
Killua's eyes glowed ethereal. They looked at Arakan and with one single glance, knew everything there was to him. Killua knew so much about Arakan. Yet Arakan didn't know as much about Killua. 

  
"Where are we?", Arakan asked, since that was the only thing he could ask that wouldn't jeopardize the silent understanding that bonded the two of them. They were connected through a very fine thread.   
  
"Do you even know where _here_ is?", Killua asked and laughed. And it didn't sound like his own laugh. It resonated. High and so full of joy that Arakan knew it was as fake as the smile he put on.   
  
Killua had made Arakan aware. He started looking around. This space that distorted before his eyes when he was about to see it and muted itself when he was about to hear it. He knew this place. This place knew him.   
  
"Yeah, I've been here before.", Arakan said, acknowledging the feeling in Killua's eyes.   
  
"No.", Killua said. And his voice sounded surprisingly angry.   
  
"Not you!", he said, back straightening and hands clenching into fists. " **I** have been here before.", Killua said.   
  
"This is my mind and whenever my reality threatened to drown me, I ran and ran until I reached this place.", the boy across from him said. His voice held a lot of emotions in it, but his eyes seemed like the ones of a corpse.   
  
"You mean _our_ mind?", Arakan asked. 

  
"We are the same.", Killua simply said. Arakan felt that was a lie. 

  
Arakan sighed.   
  
"What's wrong? Don't you wanna know why you're here?", Killua mocked, taking a few steps forward. Arakan felt threatened somehow.   
  
"No...", he murmured. "I don't think I want to."   
  
"Too bad.", Killua said shrugging. "I will tell you anyways!" The boy grinned, there was evil to the smile and there was pity to it too.   
  
"You couldn't do what I could do.", Killua said and held his hand up as his nails formed into claws. "Now you can."   
  
Arakan looked down at his own hands that had sharpened on their own.   
  
"However, Arakan. You have forgotten that you and I are quite different."   
  
"But aren't we the same?", Arakan exclaimed exasperated. He didn't understand.   
  
"Oh, we are. Of course. But at the same time, we're completely different." Killua shook his head in mock disappointment.   
  
"We are a part of two different worlds. And while I'm strong in my world, it will take a toll on your body to mimic my strength in your world."   
  
Now Arakan understood. But there wasn't anything he could do.   
  
"Just look at you and me." Killua shook his head. "You are but a toddler trying to be an assassin!" That was the only thing he knew how to be.   
  
Arakan stared down at his hands. They were small, tiny even and pudgy. His fingers seemed unable to be delicate and unable to kill.   
  
"But let me tell you, Arakan, that this is not the only reason you're here now." The way his name sounded spoken by Killua send shivers down his spine.   
  
"Haven't you ever wondered why not a single soul on this planet possesses Nen? Not even once?"   
  
Arakan didn't grace that with an answer. Killua knew the answer just as much as he himself knew. Killua knew what he knew.   
  
Killua took to answering the question himself. "That is because there is no space for Nen in this world." 

  
  
This world was different than his old one. 

  
Killua came closer, step after step until they were only inches apart.   
Now, with the close proximity, Arakan noticed the height difference. Killua was a 15-year old assassin and Arakan was barely three.   
They were two separate beings, but still somehow two halves of a whole.   
  
"You know what Nen is. You can feel it.", Killua exclaimed and suddenly Arakan's Nen rushed through his body, spreading into each limb and filling him with energy.   
Lightning danced across Killua's hands. The electricity formed shapes and as Arakan watched it felt like they were telling him a story.   
  
"Nen is a part of you and you can't just get rid of it." With those words Killua clenched his hand into a fist. The lightning didn't dissipate though, instead it moved on over his knuckles and continued dancing to an unknown rhythm.   
  
Seeing his Nen on display like this reminded him of the time Gon had succumbed to his rage and had forcefully altered his body to its greatest potential. Back then his bestfriend had lost all connection to his Nen, only being able to get it back thanks to Alluka, or rather Nanika.   
  
"And as Nen is a part of your body, in this world, quirks are a part of humans too."   
  
Arakan closed his eyes. For now he just wanted to feel the flow of his Nen as it worked through his body. It was familiar and it spread warmth through him, without this heat he feared freezing.   
  
"You, however, are different. Your origin differs from those of normal human beings. In you Nen and quirks could be united."   
  
That sounded nice, Arakan decided sighing softly. 

  
  
"But-" 

  
  
The smile left Arakan's face. 

  
  
"both Nen and your quirk see each other as a threat to their existence.", Killua explained. 

  
  
Arakan's eyes grew wide in shook.   
  
" _Why_ , you might ask. And it's actually quite simple: Nen was never meant to exist in this world and your Nen is now taking the place in your DNA that was reserved for your dormant quirk. Therefore, now that you're reaching your fourth birthday, your quirk is awakening and its natural response to your Nen is to try and retake its place in your DNA."   
  
Arakan's knuckles had turned white from his tight grip on the seam of his shirt. Killua grinned, knowing that they were the same, but he didn't feel anything alike to fear or anxiety.   
  
"As I've said before, both Nen and your quirk are a part of you. So, to keep it short: Your body's fighting against itself." 

  
Killua laughed. "You should have known something like that would happen! Come on!" Then, within the blink of an eye, his eyes narrowed. "You may look like a three-year old,  _Arakan,_ but you're not. Don't disappoint me, don't disappoint yourself, you were trained to excel, so use your head for once!" 

  
  
Arakan looked down to his hands and forced his grip to relax. Killua was right, he shouldn't react emotionally, rationality should be his greatest strength. He deeply inhaled and centered himself.   
  
He needed to find a solution for this and to be frank, he didn't know if there even was a solution. After all, this was a problem that had never occurred before. There were no records he could search for past Nen users and he didn't know if he would ever wake up from this comatose state he was currently in.   
  
Worry gnawed at him, but he shoved it down as soon as he noticed.   
  
He couldn't afford to worry right now. 

  
  
_New world, new problems_ , Arakan told himself. 

  
Finally having calmed down, he raised his head again, but instead of seeing Killua he was met with the familiar blankness of his mind. 

  
  
Killua was gone. 

  
  
The worry hit him again like a tide wave.   
  
How was he supposed to solve this alone? He didn't know anything and Killua had seemed to know so much! 

  
Gasping for breath his hands found his hair to tug at the strands. He was kneeling, forehead pressed into the grounds. He needed to stay grounded. But everything pressed down on him. He was alone, he didn't know what to do, he didn't know when he'd wake up and he didn't know if he would survive this.   
His gut clenched and Arakan pressed his eyes shut so hard that spots danced behind his closed eyelids. Somehow, he couldn't breathe. _Why couldn't he breathe?_ There was pressure on his chest and on his back. He couldn't move and couldn't breathe. His muscles clenched and then cramped. He wanted to cry, but his eyes were dry and unforgiving. Where was Killua? Where was Killua when he needed him?  
  


  
  
Then the realization came.  
  
  


  
A laugh forced itself out of his throat. It sounded choked and breathy and so endlessly painful. What had he been thinking? More laughter followed and they resonated in his ears as if he was wearing headphones. Killua. Killua. Killua. Killua. Killua. He was Killua.   
Killua had been here all the time?   
  
He laughed so hard his gut hurt and tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. _Self-hatred_.   
His hand tugged harshly at his hair.   
He was Killua! And he was Arakan! But he had forgotten that he was Killua. Killua and Arakan were the same person. What Killua experienced, Arakan experienced and what Killua knew, Arakan knew too. 

The whole time there hadn't been a separate person, Killua, with him. He had been all himself. And he was Killua and Arakan. He didn't need another person for a solution, he could find it on his own like he always had. He had always been alone. He didn't need anyone else!  
He wanted to cry.   
  
And then he laughed and laughed and laughed until he couldn't anymore.   


  
This was Killua Zoldyck.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
All for One was a rich man. Years after years of being nothing less than the leader of a huge organization had made sure of his wealth. In his life time he wouldn't be able to spend all that he had, even taking into consideration that he was in possession of multiple age rejuvenation quirks. And had it not been for his actions as ' _the boogeyman of the underground_ ' some of his quirks could easily keep him afloat. From gold to pure diamonds, he could create anything with ease. But All for One was quite an extraordinary man with strict and in the eye of the public questionable morals, therefore he didn't call wealth made by a quirk his own.   
  
Kurogiri had seen first hand just how wealthy his master was truly. The moment Arakan had fallen unconscious, the most renowned and talented doctors from all around the globe had been called to tend to his son.   
  
It was his first time seeing the usually strong All for One so distraught. It wasn't like his worry was displayed on his face, no, as far as that went not a single soul would suspect something was wrong. But Kurogiri just knew. All for One was calm. Too calm. Instead of sitting at his son's bedside All for One didn't even spend a single second away from work.  
Every business All for One was involved with reached its economical peak.   
Kurogiri knew the worry tore the man apart.   
  
None of the doctors knew how to cure Arakan. As it seemed, they didn't even know what was wrong with him. At first they had found an anomaly in the boy's DNA, but not a single person had ever seen anything alike that, so there was not a single thing those doctors could do.  
When All for One heard of that, he went blind with rage. 

These were doctors acknowledged by the whole world. Their reputation basically protected them from All for One's wrath. Kurogiri thought their death was impossible. 

  
All for One stole their quirks and killed every single one of them. 

  
And then he made them disappear from the face of the earth.

  
Their deaths weren't covered by the media. 

_The vultures are scared_, All for One had said and Kurogiri didn't question it.   
  
After that, All for One didn't stop working. Every night he returned back to the mansion later and later. And every time Kurogiri had stayed awake to greet the man, take his coat and lead him to a hot bath he had prepared prior.   
  
Kurogiri would never say anything but when he stood behind the closed doors of All for One's room and heard not even a single sob he swore to himself to protect both Arakan and All for One with his life.   


  
Exactly three months had passed when All for One built up the courage to visit his son.   
  
Arakan stayed in the most prestigious room of the whole mansion. Through the window sunlight streamed softly on the bed sheets and the small body laying beneath them.   
All for One stared and forced himself to ignore the machines crowding around the bed and all the wires connected to his precious son. 

  
There was a vase on the table next to the bed. Someone had brought yellow roses. And by the look of it they were quite fresh too.   


  
Gently caressing his cheek All for One stared down at his son. His complexion was sickly pale and his usually fluffy hair stuck close to his sweat-stained forehead.   
  
He hated how seeing his son in such a state made him feel. His hands tightened into fists and his knuckles turned white. Within him his quirks came to life at feeling his distress, eager to calm him.  
Sighing softly All for One held Arakan's tiny hand in his own and activated one of his healing quirks. He had tried before and every single time Arakan hadn't even reacted.  
He held on for minutes, then he let go of the hand and rested his head on his hands, elbows perched up on his knees. 

Why didn't his quirks have an effect on him? What use was all this power to him if he couldn't even save his loved ones?   


  
In the next few months All for One spend his time away from Arakan.   


  
Kurogiri read the newspaper everyday. People were going missing.   
People with healing quirks. 

Kurogiri only sighed and turned the page of the paper. All for One didn't seem to feel the need of subtlety.   
  
All for One's rage grew with every passing day. None of his quirks were having an effect. Arakan didn't move. The only indication of his life being the rise and fall of his chest.   


  
Arakan's fourth birthday came closer.   


  
All for One spend more days at his son's side. On this day the roses had been exchanged for new ones. The sky was gray with clouds and All for One didn't even need his quirks to tell that rain was coming.   
The atmosphere seemed heavy.   
  
His thumb drew patterns on the back of Arakan's hand and underneath his breath he softly hummed a birthday tune. "Happy birthday... Arakan...", the man murmured softly, squeezing his child's hand once.   
  
He would have never imagined spending his son's fourth birthday like that. There wasn't anything joyful to this and he couldn't even lift his mood by looking at his son's face, not when the boy looked like he was standing at death's door. 

Filled with thousands of quirks he felt hollow somehow.

  
He realized in all these months he had neglected to visit Tenko.  
Then he dismissed that thought. As hard as it might sound, All for One would choose Arakan over Tenko any day. And All for One had created Kurogiri exactly for the purpose of taking care of the boy.   
  
Another sigh escaped his mouth. He squeezed Arakan's hand again. 

And the hand squeezed back. 

  
  
His head snapped up. 

  
  
Arakan's eyes were open. 

  
  
They stared at each other for an eternity. The  world was muted. 

  
  
Then All for One huffed out a laugh.   
  
"Happy Birthday, Arakan." And as he said that he knew that the cold eyes that stared back at him had changed. His son had changed.   


  
Arakan didn't say anything at first. But as he opened his mouth to say something he coughed instead, vocal chords weak with no usage for months. His brows furrowed.   


  
"I'm back, Dad.", he finally rasped out and All for One almost laughed again. 

Back he was indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not worry, my friends! Everything will be explained in the next Chapter coming on Monday :)


	12. A simple thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11 - Recap:  
> They stared at each other for an eternity. The world was muted.
> 
> Then All for One huffed out a laugh.
> 
> "Happy Birthday, Arakan." And as he said that he knew that the cold eyes that stared back at him had changed. His son had changed.
> 
> Arakan didn't say anything at first. But as he opened his mouth to say something he coughed instead, vocal chords weak with no usage for months. His brows furrowed.
> 
> "I'm back, Dad.", he finally rasped out and All for One almost laughed again.
> 
> Back he was indeed.

Killua was weak.

  
  
His body felt heavy.

  
  
He had tried to get off the bed. His legs buckled and gave out. Had it not been for his father his head would have met the floor.  
  
"That's what happens to you, after not moving for a year.", his father had laughed and gently set him back onto the bed.

  
  
He knew that, of course he knew. That had been the only reason his old parents hadn't done enough damage to keep him down for too long.

  
But still, somehow, he had hoped that this world was different. Everything he learned didn't apply here, so there had been that spark of hope that this would be different as well.  
In all honesty, he had known the moment he woke up. His body was heavier than usual, sinking down in the pillows and sheets. It was just like that.  
He knew and still had tried, because humans were illogical like that.  
He had been trained not be illogical, but nothing applied to this world.

  
But more than anything else, his mind was exhausted. During his unconsciousness ( _"coma", his mind corrected)_ there hadn't been a single moment where he had time to truly rest. There was a countdown, mocking him and never leaving him out of its sight.  
  
It was either work or die pathetically at the age of three to not even a disease but his own body destroying itself.

  
Killua decided to work.

  
  
And work he did.

  
  
He could feel his entire body, both blood and Nen flowing in unity. And then there was something he couldn't identify. He knew this to be his quirk.  
If his Nen was like a river then his quirk felt like a tree. Back then, the water of his Nen had been drowning the roots of the tree, not even giving it a chance to prosper.  
Even though both could peacefully coexist.  
  
Now that the problem was identified, all Killua needed to do was change his body so that the tree could grow and the river could flow. It was as simple as that. Or he thought.

  
Sometimes Killua thought back on his moment of weakness. Arakan and Killua both lived in peaceful coexistence so why couldn't their powers?

  
In essence, they were both part of him and two opposites.

  
_"Therefore, your DNA is currently attacking itself over and over again until it can figure out what's wrong and fix it. But the thing is, this problem doesn't have a solution, your quirk is a part of you just as much as your Nen is, when these two forces battle it out, neither will come out on top, nor will they destroy themselves. This battle might just go on forever, so you need to come up with a solution yourself. Since your body can't, you need to think. While you're familiar with Nen, quirks are new to you. But just remember the feeling your father's power gave you. Isn't that what makes you feel alive? Power? Then embrace it and conquer it, so that you may use both Nen and quirks, since both of them are a vital part of you."_

That's what the voice said when Killua had been trying to unit Nen and his quirk for around three months.  
  
And this voice had made him think.  
  
If Nen and his quirk were two different powers not willing to mix, maybe he shouldn't try to. They were never meant to be one in the first place. Forcing them to would be more disastrous than beneficial.

  
 _See them as two separate things needed to keep your body functional_ , Killua forced himself to think.

  
  
They were like organs, like his brain and his heart. He wouldn't function without either of those.  
  
More months had passed before Killua had come to a conclusion.

  
_Treat them like your organs!_

  
His Nen was spread throughout his entire body, so forcing it to permanently stay in one part of his body would prove to be impossible. Instead Killua needed to give his Nen a center from where it could both reach and control his body.  
  
Either his heart or his brain.  
  
Killua was unfamiliar with his quirk, he neither knew what it did nor what part of his body it would reach. It was an unknown blank in an equation, that couldn't afford to leave any blanks.  
  
No matter what world he was currently in, Nen was familiar. He could cling to it when everything else around him would make no sense. It wouldn't leave him and it would never prove to be impossible to use. An ace up his sleeve, per se.  
  
He wanted to keep it close, so when he pushed it towards his heart it settled almost instantly, surrounding the organ as if it had never known anything else.  
It warmed him from the inside.  
  
And just as his Nen, his quirk went almost willingly, settling in his head and spreading its fibers through his body.  
  
With everything in its rightful place, Killua felt at ease. Now that it was gone, he noticed that the whole time there had been a spiking pain in his body, pulsing and eating at him like a starving beast. Now it was sated.  
  
His mind didn't seem like an empty and cold space anymore, it was colorful and vibrant even though he couldn't name a single color he saw. It felt familiar even though he had never seen it before.

  
  
 _This is how it was supposed to be_ , Killua thought in bliss. He had never felt so much like himself in that single moment.  
  


  
  
And then he had woken up.

  
  
  
  
First came a warm sensation from his hand. Without even seeing or acknowledging it, he knew the warmth came from his father and one of his quirks.  
The warmth spread through his entire body and made the task of opening his eyes an ease.  
  
"I'm back, Dad."

  
The sunlight hit his back, his shadow fell over the intertwined hands on his lap.  
  
There were flowers on the nightstand.  
  
The bed was comfortable, now that he had regained enough mind to sense that.  
  
His eyes trailed over the room and stopped at his father.

  
  
"You're glowing."

  
That one sentence was enough to make All for One forget the dread he had felt the past year, instead gratification like he'd never felt before flushed through him.

  
Arakan said he was glowing.

  
A sharp grin spread on his face. This, exactly this was the moment he'd waited for.  
Nothing more but one more tiny step towards his end goal, but nonetheless a moment to be remembered. Arakan was a part of hundreds if not thousands of All for One's plans, but now his position had officially been established. He had been waiting for this.

  
  
To Killua his father's grin looked like that of a predator, one he was already familiar with. The sight of the evil grin only served to remind Killua what side he had chosen. His father was perceived as evil. His father was a villain.

  
  
All for One stood up from his seat. Hauling his son up from the bed and into his arms he left the room with large strides.  
  


  
  
Before Killua blink, they had left the mansion behind and stood in an alley in a neighborhood he didn't recognize.  
  
His father set him to the ground, then, with the shake of his hand, changed his hospital gown into a presentable outfit.  
  
The alleyway was dark and narrow. To both his sides there were trash cans filled to the brim with waste. The walls of the building were sprayed with graffiti and the smell of alcohol stung Killua's nose. He felt uncomfortable.  
  
His father locked completely out of place in his fine black suit.  
  
Alleys were for the low-grade villains, murderers, rapist, burglars, the kind too cowardly to step out into the light to showcase their evil.  
  
 _Or maybe he isn't completely out of place,_ Killua reconsidered as he took a look at his father's face.

It was distorted with unhidden glee that seemed malicious with its intensity. What he saw right now was the expression of a villain, not only that, an evil mastermind, that had just gotten a step further in their plans to world domination.  
  
Killua felt uncomfortable, it send shivers down his spine.

  
  
All for One pushed him towards the entrance of the alley, a busy market street. People were rushing past them without even sparing a glance at them, busy with things actually unworthy of attention.

  
  
"What do you see?", All for One whispered into his ears. Somehow, his father's voice scared him. He knew the man was expecting something. But Killua had no way of knowing what it was, his father was just that hard to read.

  
  
Before even thinking about his answer Killua took a careful and long look. People over people, rushing past each other, bumping into each other. They weren't acknowledging the people around them, they neither looked at them nor really took them in.  
This was reality, Killua realized.  
  
In this world people didn't care for each other. There was always the own profit to be considered before anything else. Your own over everyone else's. It sickened Killua.  
  
He hadn't been brought up with care, but he knew enough to know that this society was corrupt and so entirely wrong in their thinking.  
  
But he knew that wasn't what his father wanted him to focus on right now. He had been brought outside only after saying his father appeared to glow.  
  
And not only did his father glow, every person he had seen so far emitted light as well.

  
  
"They're glowing, too.", Killua whispered. His face was carefully drawn blank.

  
  
All for One's grip tightened on his shoulders until he felt like his hands were going to leave bruises.  
"Tell me more. You can see it, don't you? Tell me about it."

  
  
His father felt like a threat right now. But Killua surpressed every instinct telling him to fight. This was his father. He wouldn't do him harm, not when he was one of his most valuable assets.

  
  
"None of them are glowing as bright as you. Each person has their own individual color and while there are people with similar shades I can't seem to find the same color twice. The colors are exclusive to one person. You're glowing white, Dad."  
His eyes locked onto a man leaning against a building, talking into his phone right across from them. Hidden in the shadows he didn't see them.  
"That man is glowing red."

  
  
His father hummed in thought. "Good...", he murmured. "Very good..."

  
"Focus on that man." It wasn't a request.  
"Can you feel or even see a thread?"

  
  
A thread? Killua frowned. The longer he stared the more the red tone of the man merged into a flickering orange flame. There wasn't a thread visible to his eyes.  
If he couldn't see it, maybe he could feel it.  
Therefore, he closed his eyes. To his own surprise he could still see the glowing shade of the man. The surprise didn't show on his face though, features in a blank expression.  
The man's flames flickered and suddenly he could see a thread. It was connected to the man's chest and weaved around in the air like a possessed snake.

  
  
"I can see it, with closed eyes.", he informed his father, still not opening his eyes.

  
  
Without even looking at him, Killua knew his father's grin had sharpened even further.

  
  
"Pull."

One word and Killua instantly knew what that meant. He was about to determine his stand as a villain in this world.

  
  
He hated himself for it, but he was completely calm. There wasn't a single regret for everything he was about to do. The decision to be a villain had already been made. Nothing was keeping him from it.  
  
The man had finished his phone call. Pushing himself off the wall he let his phone slide into one of the pockets of his coat and turned to walk away.

Killua pulled.

  
The scream could be heard throughout the entire length of the street.  
  
The man fell to the floor, grasping at his chest like his heart was about to fall out.

  
  
_He must be in excruciating pain..._

  
  
The sight of the crumbled man reminded him of himself.  
  
It brought him a sick sense of satisfaction at being the one to inflict the pain and not receive it. Somehow, he had always been the one on the shorter end of the stick. He thought with Gon his pain-filled life would end, but as beautiful as his time with Gon was, it was also the most painful.  
  
Now, however, he didn't feel pain. He inflicted it. Without him knowing a smile had crept on his face. When noticing, he immediately wiped it off. This was what he feared he'd become. He didn't enjoy pain, that would set him on the same level as his parents, but somehow the smile wouldn't stay off his face.  
  
His father was grinning, too, so as wrong as he knew it to be, Killua convinced himself that, for now, it was fine.

  
  
Then the thread he had pulled reached his body.

  
  
A loud gasp left his body at the feeling of it entering his body. At first it felt searing hot, but the heat soon morphed into a feeling that made his knees buckle and his eyes flutter close.  
  
The thread wound itself around his brain and before he knew it, a quirk had settled inside him.

  
  
When he regained his senses, the man was still screaming and the street was in an uproar.

  
  
His father's hand turned his head away from the scene until he was looking up at him.

  
All for One was grinning like a madman.  
"Congratulations on your first quirk, Arakan." 

  
  
This was wrong.

  
  
This was a crime.

  
  
This inflicted pain upon someone innocent.

  
  
This went against all of his morals.

  
  
But that simple praise made Killua forget about all of that, the man's screams forced into the back of his mind.

  
  
Killua was high on the feeling of the quirk and the small praise he'd received.

  
  
And thinking back on this day, Killua would only remember his father's grinning face and the pure and utter delight reflected in his blue eyes.

  
Despite committing a crime, Killua felt as if he'd just done something right.


	13. Kill or get killed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 - Recap:  
> But that simple praise made Killua forget about all of that, the man's screams forced into the back of his mind.
> 
> Killua was high on the feeling of the quirk and the small praise he'd received.
> 
> And thinking back on this day, Killua would only remember his father's grinning face and the pure and utter delight reflected in his blue eyes.
> 
> Despite committing a crime, Killua felt as if he'd just done something right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight cursing in this chapter!
> 
> Also TW: blood, murder

Killua looked at his reflection in the mirror. 

  
He was still a bit on the shorter side for a six-year old, but the suit he wore made him seem mature nonetheless.  
However, anyone looking at his face would think those eyes didn't belong to a child. They were cold and seemed like they had already seen the worst of the world. And in a way, they had.

  
He tilted his head to the right, inspecting himself down to the slightest detail. Nothing could be amiss. 

From the darkness behind him his father's hands protruded and settled firmly on his shoulders. 

Their eyes met in the mirror, Killua looked up and All for One stared down. 

"I'm glad the suit fits you.", the man said even though the suit had been custom-made and measured. Killua didn't retort anything, gaze turning back onto himself. 

His father wanted to take him to a meeting. Therefore the suit. 

One hand moved from his shoulder to his chin to lift it up. His father observed him, tilting his head both to the left and the right. 

"Use your quirks." 

Killua complied, he already knew which quirks his father was talking about. 

Snow-white hair turned dark as if stained with ink, then it grew and straightened out until it fell over his shoulders. His eyes that stared at him through the mirror watched on. Gone were the blue pools, replaced by a swirling purple. His cheekbones lifted and his eyes narrowed. 

The boy standing in front of the mirror did not look like Killua anymore. 

"Good job.", All for One said, placing a small smile onto Killua's face. 

With care rarely seen the man tugged his now long, black hair into a ponytail and straightened a few creases in his tie.

With a final look into the mirror All for One decided they were ready. 

"Kurogiri!"  
In an instant the villain stood by their side, head bowed, ready to execute any order his father gave.  
"Open a portal." 

The cloud-shaped man complied and right before their eyes a purple vortex appeared. 

* * *

The room was dimly lit, the little moonlight shining through the window not enough to support the single light bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling. 

Right underneath the light source a wide table stood surrounded by couches and chairs alike. Anyone looking could clearly see the invisible parting in the seating arrangement. The east side of the room only held a single couch while the other seats all were on the opposite side of the table.   
Only the lone couch was unoccupied.   
All around the table sat seven men clad in suits and fine shirts. 

An eighth man stood in front of the table leaning over the papers strewn across, seemingly deep in thoughts. 

"They're late, boss!", one of the seated men exclaimed, both his sleeves were hiked up to reveal various tattoos covering the entirety of his biceps. 

Torn out of his thoughts the man at the table hissed and shot the other a glare. "Shut up, would you? They ain't late, that man ain't late. Either we're early or he's not showing up." 

"What's even so great about that guy that all of us had to show up in this ridiculous get-up?", he continued complaining, picking at the loose-fitting shirt.   
"I bet he ain't even that big of a deal.", another man grunted, vest left completely unbuttoned. 

Their complaints were interrupted as their boss hit the table with clenched fists. "You don't know a thing! So shut it! If he hears you talk like that you won't have a mouth left to talk shit!", he growled and pushed himself off the table to take a seat. 

None of the men said anything to that.   
The man with the tattooed arms cracked the knuckles of his hand. He had never seen his boss in such a distress. They had been leading this business for decades, stomping down any and everyone daring to stand in their way. But as soon as this man came up to have a meeting with them, their fearless boss acted like a mut with his tail tugged between his legs. 

  
_What a shitshow_ , the man cursed.

  
Only a few of the members had ever heard of that man, so their leader's pale face had been laughed off as a joke at first.   
His boss had said the future of their branch stood at stake. 

His thoughts were interrupted. 

Right behind the empty couch what seemed like a portal opened and out stepped two people. 

His gaze immediately went to the taller one of the two.   
The man stood tall, towering over every man in the room and in the dim light his white hair almost seemed to glow. The suit he wore did little to hide the man's imposing build.   
Then their eyes met and even though it was barely a fraction of a second, the man's whole body froze up, breaking out in cold sweat. His nerves felt like they were on fire and his head refused to look at the man again.  
The other man's eyes were like ice, one glance had been enough to tell him that this man was evil, so evil that a simple man like himself couldn't even think of grasping the intent behind his existence. 

He was shaking, the man realized. 

_Get a grip!_ , the man thought, _You're a Yakuza for God's sake!_

He forced himself to look at the other person that had stepped out alongside the man. Before looking at him, the man already knew that whoever could walk alongside that monster disguised as a man must be just as monstrous. 

As it turned out the other person was a child, barely reaching the man's torso. 

Black hair akin to silk held in a ponytail, pale skin like a vampire and unusual purple eyes. 

The man almost heaved out a sigh of relief, at least one of their guests appeared normal. 

That thought disappeared as soon as he locked eyes with the boy.   
Again, his body was met with two choices: Fight or Flight. However, his body was frozen in fear, not able to go after either option. 

What had his boss done? He had led two monsters right into their middle! The man could feel it, this would be their downfall.

Killua felt disappointed.   
Sure, when his father said they were merely meeting some Yakuza thugs he knew not to expect too much. But he wasn't disappointed by what he saw, their appearances were as unspectacular as he expected, he was disappointed by the lack of an interesting quirk.   
There were eight men in total, but not a single one was in possession of a quirk unique to the ones he already had.   
Killua almost went back home then and there.   
But his father wouldn't have liked that, so he stayed. 

"Good evening.", his father greeted, voice achingly friendly as if he was talking to old friends.

  
 _This meeting ought to be at least a little interesting_ , Killua thought, content with not saying a single thing throughout the meeting. 

"All for One.", the man standing said and Killua focused on him for now, he seemed to be the head around here.   
His hair was red and just a shade darker than his eyes. Besides a scar that stretched from his forehead to his left cheekbone, his face wasn't that much to look at.   
At six year old, Killua could detect quirk threads even without having to close his eyes: the man's thread was woven around his fingertips and with just a glance at its characteristics Killua could tell that the man could emit acid from his fingertips. How such a quirk made him the boss of a Yakuza branch, he didn't know, but he was in possession of at least 50 stronger acid quirks so there was no need to take the Yakuza's. 

"Who's that?", a man seated on a couch asked his father, glaring at him, voice obviously angered.  
Killua suppressed a laugh. 

"An observer, you could say.", his father answered, not even sparing the man who had talked a glance. He knew his father saw them beneath them, while they might think this meeting meant serious business, Killua knew the man was humoring them. 

"You said you were bringing your son! That ain't looking like your son.", another man said, raising his voice. 

All for One cocked an eyebrow, amused at the man's sheer stupidity. "And how would you know what my son looks like?" 

The man spluttered. "You look nothing alike!", he defended himself, hands moving around in front of him. 

_Air manipulation, huh?_ , Killua thought absent-minded as he checked the quirks around the room. 

"However he might look like, I can guarantee that he's my son by blood.", the man indulged them and Killua rolled his eyes. This whole meeting was unnecessary. 

Suddenly a man across from them stood up. He was broad, muscle mass even bigger than his father and his head was complete shaved to give view on the scars that littered his head. There was even one that crossed right over his nose bridge.  
With wide strides he stalked across the room and came to a stop right in front of Killua. The tip of his nose almost touched the man and he had to throw his head all the way back to look at the man's face that loomed over him. 

"Hey, All for One! That's just a little pipsqueak, sure that's your offspring?", the man mocked and pushed the boy back.   
Internally Killua laughed, but to keep up the act, he actually stumbled a few steps back at the push.   
"He doesn't seem like much to me.", the man laughed and took a step further into his personal space. 

"Don't worry. My son is indeed one of a kind. But you might be right, as of late my son has a...", All for One paused in his act. "... rather strange infatuation with strength."   
All for One smiled wide, the skin of his cheeks stretching and eyes turning into crescent moons. "You seem like a really capable man, so why don't you show him a bit of your strength.", the man suggested and Killua almost laughed out loud at the fact that the Yakuza thugs actually believed the act of his father.   
He caught his father's stare and instantly knew of his plan. _Intimidation it was, then._

"Gladly!", the thug started, grin on his face and cracking his knuckles. Then he reached back and swung his fist at Killua's face.   
Before the hit could connect the man saw the boy's face and faltered. 

The boy was grinning at him. There wasn't even a single sign of fear in his demeanor. Just unhidden, unbridled glee. 

The other Yakuza could only watch as one of their own indirectly challenged the man called All for One. 

  
His boss feared the worst. 

It was as if time was slowed down and every inhabitant of the room could only watch as the broad Yakuza froze in his movement. 

The Yakuza leader blinked. 

The board man still towered over Killua, however something seemed wrong. 

The leader narrowed his eyes. 

His head was missing! 

Not even a second before, the man had threatened the small boy, but now he was missing his head!  
The Yakuza didn't know how that was possible! He had only blinked and in that small time-frame his subordinate had been beheaded by none other than a child barely older than seven! 

He felt bile rise up his throat. 

He had brought this upon his branch, it was him who had led those monsters to them. 

The man's corpse fell on his back with a dull thud as Killua pushed it over. 

He flexed his hand for a bit, intensely staring at his palm. 

The remaining Yakuza were frozen in fear and disbelief. 

"An augmentation quirk...", the child mumbled and those three words made his legs give out underneath him. 

At the sight of their leader sinking down, the Yakuza regained their senses.   
What could a single child do? They were in the majority, seven (one of them was dead, they slowly came to realize) against a child. 

With a roar they rushed at the boy.

It was over in an instant.

Killua sighed and wiped his hands down on one of the men's suits. 

All for One had not moved from his spot, he'd simply watched with a smile grazing his lips. 

Now, that his son was done there wasn't anything left to do. 

Making his way around the corpses piled at his feet, Killua stood in front of his father, that had taken a cloth out and gently started wiping down the blood splattered on his face. 

"I took their quirks.", Killua informed the man, waiting patiently as he was treated with care as if he hadn't just murdered in cold blood. His father treated him like he had just gotten dirty playing in the sand. 

"Good job.", All for One acknowledged his effort and lit the now red-stained cloth up in flames until only ashes remained. 

Killua took a look back at the room.

  
The light bulb had gone out and only the moonlight remained to shine on unseeing eyes and hands stretched out towards him as if they still fought him in death. 

"The leader's still alive." 

The man was cowering underneath the table, drenched in his subordinates' blood. His gaze seemed faraway and still somehow focused on him. Killua had taken his quirk, but the man hadn't even made a noise. His mind was shattered. 

"Should I get rid of him?", Killua asked, hand unconsciously gripping at his father's dress pants. 

"Don't. I want him to remember this. His experience will be like a virus, spreading through the underground to make _you_ known.", All for One said and only now did Killua realize that everything that had just occurred in this meeting had been thoroughly planned out by his father. 

  
Everything had been part of a plan. 

Killua was almost in a trance as his father pulled him back through a portal that he hadn't even realized appeared. 

The last thing he saw before the vortex closed were the unseeing eyes of the leader of the Yakuza so similar to the eyes of a corpse even though Killua knew the man was alive. 

He didn't feel anything at the sight. 

  
_They had it coming_ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can picture Killua's changed appearance similar to Illumi. I thought that if Killua had to change his appearance he would unconsciously search for something familiar: his brother. He doesn't realise himself that he looks like a small version of Illumi (except for the eyes of course)
> 
> But I'll let your fantasy play, imagine what you would like to see :)


	14. The birth of Killua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 - Recap:  
> Everything had been part of a plan. 
> 
> Killua was almost in a trance as his father pulled him back through a portal that he hadn't even realized appeared. 
> 
> The last thing he saw before the vortex closed were the unseeing eyes of the leader of the Yakuza so similar to the eyes of a corpse even though Killua knew the man was alive. 
> 
> He didn't feel anything at the sight. 
> 
> They had it coming, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the shorter side today, sorry, but school's really killing me right now haha

He was ten and there were about 5,362 quirks in his possession. 

  
He was ten and had lost count of how many men he'd killed. 

  
  
_At least not as much as before,_ he thought.

  
  
All for One had taken on training his son. On the day Arakan had stolen his first quirk the man had known that his son had inherited a strongly amplified version of his own quirk. He himself had never been able to steal a quirk with simply a glance at the target, it had always needed a physical touch.   
All for One didn't mind. The more quirks he stole the easier it got.   
And now, at the prime of his life, All for One could walk in a crowd and steal quirks with barely a touch of two arms.   
  
His son however wouldn't ever need to actually walk among those ignorant people. With one look he could take it all.   
  
That had been what All for One had searched for all his life.   
  
Arakan could weave a yarn out of quirk-threads, taking them all at the same time.   
  
All for One was beyond exhilarated.   
  
This could be his greatest weapon yet.  
  
  
  
  
  
Shigaraki Tomura now lived with them in the mansion. Killua didn't understand why that was necessary; while his apartment hadn't been one of the nicest and the mansion had more empty rooms than occupied ones, he just couldn't understand his father's line of thought putting the boys' rooms next to each other.   
  
They ate together, walked together (though most of the time just from and to their rooms). It wasn't even voluntary, simply everything they did happened to be near the other.   
Arakan suspected it was his father's subtle attempt at getting them to be friends. 

  
  
"From now on, Tomura will join us in training." 

  
  
Now they ate together, walked together and sparred together. Still not once did they talk, their only communication through either fists or glares.  
The spars usually went in Killua's favor, though he had to adjust to being ten again and slipped up once in a while, resulting in Tomura winning and a week full of sneers and arrogant grins.   
  
All for One didn't show an obvious favor of either of them. During meals he talked to both of them, during training he didn't go easy on either of them. All for One wore the perfect mask. 

  
  
But there was one thing, that differentiated Killua from Tomura. 

  
  
Tomura did not go with All for One to meetings nor did he do missions for the man.   
  
It was ridiculous, but Killua felt special, somehow appreciated through simple actions.   
  
Tomura and Killua were completely different. Both their hands were stained with blood, though Killua had done it with purpose in mind and would, no doubt, do it again when asked to.   
  
Tomura lacked Killua's apathy. He felt remorse and guilt and emotions that had long since died in the assassin's heart.   
  
Killua knew Tomura resented him for always accompanying his father.   
  
The assassin always saw the light seeping through Tomura's door late at night, when All for One knocked at his door to inform him of his mission.   
  
It was always the same. Tomura always hoped the knock would be on his door, but all he ever heard where the footsteps of his sensei leading the other boy away. 

  
  
  
It was shortly past midnight, when All for One knocked on Killua's door. He'd already changed, hair long and black, clothes just as dark to conceal him in the shadows.   
  
He opened the door, staring up at his father's waiting face. The man, as always, didn't say anything, just made sure Arakan was prepared and then turned to walk away.   
  
And as always Killua followed without saying anything either. This was just how it was between them. They talked a lot, but as soon as night fell there was no room for casual talk.   
  
Nonetheless, Killua knew his compliance made his father happy. 

  
Tonight, they walked far. All the way to the center of Nagano. 

  
  
All for One stopped at the mouth of an alley, the moon stood high in the sky, but the light didn't reach them.   
"See the building there?", his father asked, pointing at a tall house across the street, still lit up like it was midday.   
  
Killua nodded and he knew his father noticed without having to look at him.   
  
"We're in the police precinct and that building is your target, the headquarter.", his father informed him.   
  
Killua was laser-focused, he could see officers walking around, sitting at desks or chatting in the break room. 

  
  
"You will break in, kill the officer Shi Nikushima and download everything stored in the local database." 

  
  
He frowned, downloading that much data would take a while, even with all the technology-quirks he had. While his father talked thousands of plans had formed in his head, each one with at least three backup-plans. Concerns were rising in the back of his mind, but he shoved them down and didn't complain.   
  
"Understood.", the child said. "Anything I should keep an eye on?" Usually Killua didn't ask any questions after being given a mission, but somehow he felt uneasy today.   
  
His father chuckled. "This police station is stuffed to the brim with sensory quirks."   
  
A shiver went down Killua's spine, he'd almost ran straight into a trap. He gritted his teeth in obvious frustration, he was supposed to be better than that! 

  
  
He switched his flip on. 

  
  
Gone was the ten-year old, replaced by an assassin with over a decade of experience.   
  
Killua blinked and vanished, then, with a flicker reappeared at the other side of the road.   
All his sensory quirks were activated.   
  
With one hand on the outer wall of the police station, Killua melted into the concrete, slipping through the strong defenses of the station in an instant.   
  
He didn't usually like to merge with the walls since his eyes proved to be useless enclosed by solid concrete.   
Though in hindsight to that, Arakan had activated two of his visual quirks: _Infra-red_ and _X-Ray._  
The name his father had given him had activated a face-recognition quirk and thankfully, his intended target glowed stronger than other officers and was currently alone in one of the offices.   
  
Moving through walls always reminded Killua of swimming, but somehow the inanimate feeling prevented him from actually enjoying the use of this quirk.  
As soon as he reached the room, Killua emerged from the walls at an angle that neither the multiple cameras staged in the corners nor the target, that had his back turned to him, caught sight of him.   
  
It would be hard to get around the cameras while staying unnoticed by Nikushima. With a little thought, Killua activated an invisibility quirk. While light passed right through him, he could still be touched so instead of walking right through the room, he kept to the walls to reach his target. 

  
Shi Nikushima wasn't a high-ranking officer, no, quite the opposite. Forced to take shift after shift just to keep him afloat, overworked and bordering on being insomniac. Just as his status, the man looked pitiful. Police uniform more wrinkled than neat, stubble adorning his cheek like a tiny forest and eyebags so dark, they almost shone purple.   
  
It was almost as if Killua came to relieve him of his burdens. _I'm taking pity,_ the boy joked internally, hands sharpening without a thought. 

  
  
Zoldyck assassins didn't leave time for last words, an assassination was only successful when the target had not been aware of his murderer's presence. 

  
  
Shi Nikushima died without having seen the ten-year old child. Hunched over the desk, blood seeped into the files and papers as unseeing eyes stared at the wall. 

  
  
The assassination had been awfully easy. 

  
  
Taking a step back to not get any blood on his shoes, Killua avoided the red puddle that began to form underneath the man and made his way to the computer on the clean side of the desk.   
  
Another quirk activation and his index finger shifted into an USB-stick. Sighing Killua pulled one of the office chairs close to him and plopped down on it, this would take a while and he couldn't move, bound to the computer through his finger.   
The sensation of data trickling into his finger felt weird, to say the least, it was a tingle, but also a burn.   
  
His _En_ was spread out to alert him of any intruders. In the safety of his Nen, Killua allowed himself to close his eyes for a bit. 

  
Killua was foolish. 

  
It was night, Killua was ten and still unused to the way his body worked in this world. 

  
  
He was woken by the door slamming open. Within the blink of an eye he was alert again, a glance at the computer revealing all the data had been saved. His finger shifted back and Killua turned to disappear through the floor. He couldn't panic, not during one of his missions. He was a professional, some unknown numbers in his equations wouldn't stop him!   
  
A hand on the back of the office chair stopped him, his body frozen through the effects of a quirk. 

  
  
"You're under arrest!", judging by the voice, a man hissed. Killua couldn't turn his head, his whole body refusing to listen to him. A sweat drop ran down the side of his face.   
  
With the man's movement Killua could hear metal cuffs clanking against each other. He growled, how dare this man think he could arrest him! 

  
  
Just as a hand came in view to clasp his wrist into the cuffs, Killua activated his _Hatsu. ("Lightning Palm!")_  
The man couldn't even scream as millions of volts coursed through his body.  
The officer dropped dead and Killua could move again.   
  
Panic ate at his insides, his father would be angry with him, Killua knew. 

  
His thoughts were interrupted again as another officer stormed through the door, gun barrel pointed at his face.   
The boy suppressed a sigh. 

  
"You're under arrest! Hands were I can see them! State your name!", he screamed. 

  
  
Killua sighed, deciding to humour him for a bit, hands obediently lifting up to his head. Through the hallway behind the officer more policemen streamed into the room, all guns pointed at him.   
  
He thought for a bit. It wasn't like he was in danger, there was no immediate threat to his life and those officers couldn't do more than annoy him a bit.   
  
The men seemed at least slightly uneasy at having guns trained on a child. 

Killua suppressed a laugh, _a child that could kill them before they even blinked._  
  
For a short moment he was tempted to read their thoughts, but decided against it. Mind reading always left him vulnerable and caused a huge headache. 

"I'm _Killua._" 

  
  
That's who he was. A villain. An assassin. A murderer. Someone feared and admired alike.   
Surrounded by blood, hidden in the shadows.  
Killua Zoldyck, Shigaraki Arakan, son of All for One, a villain. 

  
A mad grin spread on his face. 

  
  
Laughter bubbled up. 

  
  
Their faces were just too funny. 

  
  
Those officers. 

  
  
Would they shoot a child? 

  
  
Killua wanted to find out. 

  
  
But his mission here was over. 

  
  
Taking a deep breath, Killua closed his eyes and moved. 

  
As he opened his eyes all the officers laid dead in their own blood.   
  


* * *

  
  
  
All for One waited for an hour. Not moving a single muscles, eyes trained on the spot of the wall were his son had disappeared.  
His eyes didn't leave the spot even as blood splatters painted the inside of the windows, even as pained screams echoed through the street.   
He only moved when his son walked out through the front entrance to the police station. Blood followed his every step, he was coated in it, there were splatters on his face and stains on his clothes and as he walked he drew a line of blood on the street, drops fell from his hands.   
  
All for One took the sight in. Then he gently shook his head and the only thing Killua saw was the disappointment associated with the gesture. 

  
  
"Try not to get as dirty next time." 

  
So there was a next time. Killua had already known that, proud that his father trusted him to do his job right.   
  
The boy held his hand up, revealing a USB-stick, though it was soaked in blood.

  
"Keep it for now. I'll retrieve it later on.", All for One said, not even making a move to take the bloody object. 

  
  
"Dad." 

  
  
All for One spared him a glance. 

  
  
"My name's _Killua_ now." 

  
  
His father laughed.   
  
"What an interesting villain name you chose there."   
  
All for One grinned and without even noticing Killua reciprocated the grin on his own face.   
  
Then they walked away into the night, leaving behind a police precinct filled with nothing but death and blood.

And later on, the autopsies of those corpses would state an unknown cause of death and the lack of a quirk in all the officers.


	15. Usual, until it wasn't anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14 - Recap:  
> "Dad." 
> 
> All for One spared him a glance. 
> 
> "My name's Killua now." 
> 
> His father laughed. 
> 
> "What an interesting villain name you chose there." 
> 
> All for One grinned and without even noticing Killua reciprocated the grin on his own face. 
> 
> Then they walked away into the night, leaving behind a police precinct filled with nothing but death and blood.
> 
> And later on, the autopsies of those corpses would state an unknown cause of death and the lack of a quirk in all the officers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short again, however this chapter is necessary. We will soon face a confrontation vital for further actions :) You could guess it already, it happens in Canon too, but I will change it up a bit

Being a police officer was hard. They were not in the spotlight like daylight heroes were nor did they take part in press conferences often, therefore the general public didn't acknowledge the police as hard work. 

  
If Tanuma could hold a press conference, he'd say police officers had the hardest work out of all heroic professions. 

  
A fight broke out? The police was already there. A villain attack? The police got it covered. Murder? Police. Petty crimes? Police.   
Though never once did anyone acknowledge those efforts. More often than not hero-obsessed fans pushed hardworking officers, just trying to keep them safe, to the side in favor of seeing their favorite hero fight the villain better. 

  
  
Tanuma thought detectives had it even harder. 

  
  
They didn't need to confront the crowds, instead their work found its place behind desks staring at files after files until words blurred together and danced off the paper. Detectives had to solve cases so complex every hero attempting to solve anything gave up, detectives had to visit the crimes scenes of bloody murders and find the culprit daylight heroes couldn't bother with. But, to Tanuma's dismay, most of the time was spent in front of said files trying to read something between the lines that hadn't been there hours before when the files had been first given to him.   
  
Usually detectives felt strong reluctance having to hand off a case to another, simply because the case felt _unsolvable._ Therefore, rather than putting cracks onto their pride, detectives preferred to work themselves to death. 

  
Tanuma was a pretty laid-back detective, he took his work seriously, of course, but an outsider might not see it like that. Leaned back on a chair, shirt partly unbuttoned, tie loosely hung around the neck, Tanuma looked more like someone too lazy to actually consider working on a case.   
However, in contrast to his looks, the detective was known as a workaholic among his co-workers. 

So when his boss had come up to his desk, dropped a stack of files in front of him and left without another word, Tanuma had felt the immeasurable need to solve whatever had left the higher-ups frustrated. 

  
At a glance it seemed like your usual murder series, though the more Tanuma read the paler he grew. Of course, serial murderers were to be handled with caution and finding them usually took a bit longer than cases of second or third degree murder, but having quirks involved was always bound to complicate things.   
Sometimes Tanuma wished to be born in the pre-quirk era.    
  
Serial murderers in possession of quirks assisting them on their killing spree were extremely hard to apprehend. Thanks to their quirk it was an easy task to identify the culprit, however arresting them was a completely different thing. 

  
In all his years as a detective, Tanuma got to know four types of murderers: 

_the thrill seekers_ , seeing a break of the law as some form of sick amusement,

 _The mission-oriented one,_ firm in their belief to be doing society a favor by killing,

 _The visionary one_ , plagued by mental disorders and led to commit crimes 

  
And, the one Tanuma grew to despise:

_the power and control_ serial killers, enjoying their victims suffering, controlling humans through the irreversible act of murder. 

  
  
Reading through the file this serial killer seemed to be more like a mix of a thrill seeker and a power and control killer. Tanuma had to suppress multiple sighs. 

  
  
These kind of killers felt no remorse, didn't even seem to possess a conscience. 

  
  
His boss had assigned him a case of a murderer that had not only infiltrated five different headquarters of the police force across Japan but had also killed every single officer stationed there.   
  
Tanuma could already feel his hair graying. This couldn't be solved by simply reading files, this case needed an active detective revisiting crime sides, testimonies and own research. 

  
  
So, with only results in mind, Tanuma got to work. 

  
  
Days after days he drove around, questioning both police officers and neighboring citizen. Hours on end he rewatched surveillance tapes only to find them completely destroyed or encrypted.  
Tanuma was close to tearing his hair out.   
  
Not even his interviews seemed to help, all the answers hadn't even aligned in the slightest, some said they'd seen fire as high as the sky and others swore up and down they'd heard lightning strike or seen walls falling apart.   
  
The detective didn't include those answers in his report, too abstract to be made-up and too specific to be true. He wrote it off as error in memories due to emotional involvement. 

  
  
It was one month later that Tanuma found himself working on the case once again.   
He was currently sat at his desk in the small office he occupied. The files were strewn across the wooden surface, while the detective himself worked on his laptop. To describe both the office and the man as a mess would be more than an understatement. If an outsider had previously called him lazy, he might have called the man homeless by now.   
The workaholic almost lived in his office, barely surviving off of coffee and a few bagels his assistant brought him every morning. He couldn't live with the feeling of leaving a case unsolved, though he slowly came to the realization that this case could have been just as well fiction. All the possible scenarios he had come up with were more likely to be found in the script of a cheap crime movie than to be an actual crime. 

  
  
With resignation the man stared down at the open page in his notebook, pen laid on top to keep the book open.   
  
_'Multiple quirks????'_ Tanuma huffed out a laugh and scribbled over his writings. Anyone seeing this would have laughed at him like he was laughing at himself right now.   
A month of non-stop working couldn't have been good for him if he came up with such ideas. 

  
  
The door to his office opened, a welcomed distraction in his labour of solving an unsolvable case. 

  
In walked none other than his close partner, detective Naomasa Tsukauchi. As usual the man sported his tan overcoat, though his matching hat was held in his hand, revealing his short, black hair, the other hand holding a steaming hot coffee.    
In contrast to the tired-looking Tanuma, Tsukauchi seemed healthier than ever. 

  
"What have you been up to, that the others just gave me a coffee for you and shook their head.", the man asked after a short greeting and laughed at seeing Tanuma's face lit up at the mention of freshly brewed coffee. 

  
  
Forcing his attention away from the paper cup in Tsukauchi's hands, the man stifled a sigh. 

"Don't even talk about it! My head is already aching at the thought of going back to work again!", the man whined, voice akin to that of a child if you could ignore the obvious lack of sleep deepening his voice to a baritone.    
  
"I'm guessing murder again?", the other man asked, carefully setting down the cup on the desk, though not before making space in between papers and files.    
  
Too busy inhaling the coffee Tanuma didn't even notice when Naomasa picked up one opened file and briefly skimmed its contents. 

The man let out a low hum. 

  
"That's all the higher-ups have been talking about for weeks. Though none of them ever gave much detail.", Tsukauchi informed him, turning the page over.   
  
"Mind if I borrow these files for a while?", he continued, eyes never leaving the paper. Whatever he read deeply intrigued him.   
  
Tanuma sighed, his stubborn personality longed to refuse the request, however the severely overworked and sleep-deprived part of his brain couldn't even be more glad to finally get rid of the pain that had plagued him the past month. 

  
  
"Give it a shot, if you must. But don't come back to me, crying that it was too hard for you to solve.", the man laughed, even though, inside, he was more than glad to shove the case off his shoulders. 

  
  
Naomasa only hummed again, too focused on what he was reading to care for the friendly jab. 

  
  
Muttering his thanks Tsukauchi gathered the files strewn across the desk and left the table. 

  
  
On normal days Tanuma would have noticed the sudden shift in mood of his partner, however, today the man felt particularly tired and didn't pay attention to the subtle shift in Tsukauchi's body language.    
  
Naomasa Tsukauchi was shocked beyond belief. If what he just read proved to be the truth, the hardest time for hero society might have been just ahead.    
  
  


  
  
Yagi Toshinori woke up quite early that day. As usual he prepared a simple meal for breakfast and as usual he read the newspaper that morning, checking for villain sightings. Everything about his morning was like he was used to.    
  
That was until his phone vibrated, having received a message. 

Now, usually this wouldn't be cause for concern, however All Might was in possession of exactly three phones. 

One for his personal contacts such as friends, one for business only and one for urgent information and emergencies only. 

  
The one that just vibrated had been his emergency phone. 

Receiving a message this early was ominous, especially when Sir Nighteye was the only one to ever contact him like that. And his sidekick had told him just the day prior that he would not hear of him for a while. 

  
Yagi Toshinori's day had been going as usual until he read the message on his emergency phone.   
  


  
  
  
  
**Naomasa Tsukauchi**   
  
_Prepare yourself._ _He is coming._  
 _8:10_


	16. The calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 15 - Recap:  
> Receiving a message this early was ominous, especially when Sir Nighteye was the only one to ever contact him like that. And his sidekick had told him just the day prior that he would not hear of him for a while. 
> 
> Yagi Toshinori's day had been going as usual until he read the message on his emergency phone.
> 
> Naomasa Tsukauchi   
> Prepare yourself. He is coming.  
> 8:10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm saying sorry in advance...
> 
> TW: (severe) panic attack, anxiety, mentions of torture and blood
> 
> Enjoy :)

He knew something was off as soon as All for One said " _You won't be doing any missions for awhile."_  
  
A break, so to say. All for One didn't give or take breaks, Killua knew.  
  
Had he done something wrong? He must have, otherwise his father wouldn't have prohibited from stepping outside.  
  
Briefly a room filled with chains and weapons and blood- _so much blood, why was there so much blood?-_ flashed through his mind. He bit down onto the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making any noise. The hairs on his arm rose. His father wouldn't punish him, not here, not anymore.

  
The phantom pain of scars that had never touched his skin in this world roamed his body. Sharpened nails dug into his arm.

  
_Stop it! Focus!_

  
He hadn't done a mistake noticeable enough to be pointed out by All for One, sure, during his first mission he was almost caught, but in the end it had worked out, so no matter how Killua looked at it, his act had been flawless, his behaviour couldn't have led his father to act like he did.  
There was no reason for his distress. His father probably wanted to keep the police on their toes, by disappearing, only to show up where and when it was expected the least.

  
  
_No, you've lost your use, he's gone to Tomura instead,_ the traitorous voice inside his head whispered.

  
  
Killua didn't try to identify it, it spoke to him often, it followed him wherever he went and commented anything he thought or did. He didn't like it, it just became a part of his life, just as other things were. The voice didn't effect him. Usually. But today was an off-day.  
  
Killua looked down at his arms, seeing marks of shackles that hadn't been there before, whip marks and red, angry lines crossing his skin. When he blinked they were gone again.

  
  
_Please! Stop it! He wouldn't- He isn't like them!_

  
  
His breath slightly picked up.  
  
He could feel the wounds on his back, every movement pulled the skin tight and fresh pain flared up.

  
_This isn't real, this isn't real- not real, not real, stop, please just stop, why won't it stop?_

  
  
If he focused enough he could feel the blood seeping through his shirt, sticking to the wounds and irritating them. His hands were shaking now, he dully noticed. They were calloused, his hands and the fingertips stained red. The blood didn't fade away when he blinked, instead it seemed to creep up on him, flowing down his hands and up his arms until the unbearably hot liquid was all he could feel. He choked back a sob.

  
  
_This... isn't real..._

  
  
But it was! His hands were drenched in blood, were they not? Hadn't he killed men after men, without any regard for life? Hadn't his conscience long since rotted and died?  
He wasn't supposed to feel like this, he wasn't supposed to feel at all. There was no space for relationships in his heart, only cold apathy. But he had begun to care! He wasn't allowed to!

  
  
_I'm gonna be punished- they will hurt me- again and again and again and again-_

  
  
His breath hitched, hands clawing at his skull, nails still sharpened, the pain didn't register. There were whip marks on his back, freshly done. There were electrical burns on his chest, freshly done. There were deep cuts all over his limbs, freshly done. And-

  
  
_It hurts- it hurts- make it stop! Please, I can't, I can't anymore!-_

  
  
His knees were pulled tightly to his chest, head resting on them and arms clutching around them like his life depended on it. Everything hurt. He had been punished after all, he was always the one making the mistakes. It shouldn't surprise him anymore.

  
  
_It's what you deserve. It's to make you good,_ the voice piped up again.

  
  
He wasn't crying, but his breath came out like he was, hiccups interrupting his breathing. He was Killua, an assassin, trained to murder in cold blood, he was not supposed to break down like this. But right now, he was a ten-year old boy and children were allowed to cry.

  
_He's going to punish me again, but I can't- not so soon- it hurts- he hurts me- stop it! Stop it! Please! Aren't you my father?_

  
His breath didn't reach him anymore, his chest was rising and falling, but his body didn't get any air. He was suffocating through breathing. Desperately gasping for air, Killua clawed at his throat, his mind flashed pictures again- _a hand held his head down, but he couldn't breath-he was dying, why couldn't he breathe? The hand held him down, until his body had gone slack, then he was lifted out of the water tank "That was weak, Kill..." Disappointment was never good and he could only take one shuddering breath until he was shoved under again-_ He couldn't breathe! Gasping, he curled tightly around his knees, that's what he got for being weak! His breath rose and fell in a staccato. His lungs constricted. Pain, pain- so much pain.  
  
Bile rose in his throat, chest growing tight. His heart clenched. But never once did a tear fall, not like this, showing weakness would be punished. _Not more punishment! Please! Please no! I can't- I can't take it! I'm sorry I'm weak! I'm sorry!_  
Nausea welled up in him, but his mouth was dry, his tongue felt like sandpaper. He dry-heaved, head and vision swimming. He couldn't cry out anymore, any attempt at forming words interrupted by either gasping breaths or retching.

* * *

  
  
  
Shigaraki Tomura hated Shigaraki Arakan. That was a fact and if the boy had a say in it, that wouldn't ever change. Therefore, everything the boy did or say was ignored by Tomura.

Likewise Arakan never acknowledged the older boy. That was just how they lived; their rooms were right next to each other and the walls were so thin, that it almost felt like they weren't there at all. And when Tomura woke up in the middle of the night, seemingly without reason and heard Arakan's gasps and cries caught in a nightmare, Tomura just turned in his bed, pressed his pillow over his head and tried to fall asleep again.

That was just how it was.

Arakan didn't care for Tomura so Tomura didn't care for Arakan.

  
He wouldn't ever admit it, but Arakan's cries and please _("I'm sorry, I won't be weak again, please don't hurt me!"_ or _"Don't leave me, please! I can't live alone! You're my light! Don't leave me alone!")_ were heart-wrenching and it took all Tomura's willpower to not be affected.

  
  
It was still light outside. Tomura resided in his room and so was Arakan. He had noticed the other boy didn't leave as much in the nighttime. As of late, he didn't even hear any noise indicating a nightmare and the boy suspected Arakan avoided sleep for that reason. Not that he cared anyway.

  
Fiddling with the gloves around his fingers, Tomura stared up at the ceiling. His control over his quirk had grown ever since Sensei had decided to include him in their training sessions. The boy was grateful, truly, though he craved even better control and right now it seemed like he'd reached his limit. He hated it.

  
  
He glanced at the wall that separated Arakan from him. The boy seemed picture-perfect, had it not been for the broken sobs carrying through the walls on the darkest nights. In training, the younger boy controlled his quirks like he'd been born with them, beating him into the mats time and time again, just to receive a nod from Sensei. Tomura, however, received vocal praise, pats on the head, acknowledgment. He knew Arakan probably resented him for it.

  
  
He glanced at the wall again. 

A noise.

His eyes narrowed. Had he imagined that? With suspicion, he sat up on his bed and held his breath to listen.

Again, the noise.

It definitely came from behind the wall. Was Arakan training? If so, why hadn't he gone to one of their many gym rooms?

  
This time the noise was louder, loud enough for Tomura to identify it. And he was all too familiar with it. Had Arakan been asleep? It was still daytime, though the younger boy had just made a noise as if he had just woken from a nightmare.  
For now, Tomura elected to ignore it. It wasn't his business after all.  
  
The sounds grew even louder, gasps and cries and murmured words, that he couldn't clearly identify. It sounded a lot like Arakan was crying. The older boy stole a glance at his door, knowing Arakan's door was right next to it, he contemplated. With a sigh he turned away. Still not his business.

  
  
Tomura had watched the clock hanging above his desk. Arakan was crying for over an hour and it still didn't seem like he would stop any time. He clenched his hands, what he wanted to do would break the unofficial agreement they had come to. _Mind your business and I will mind my own._

  
  
Well, Tomura thought, if Arakan was crying loud enough to be a bother to him it was partly his own business, too.

Therefore, he soon found himself in front of the other boy's door. And God, they definitely needed to invest in some sound-proving. Standing right in front of this door made it all the more serious.

  
  
The boy didn't bother to knock, sure that the other wouldn't hear it over his own desperate gasps.

  
To be honest, Tomura hadn't known what to expect. Maybe he had thought the boy would be laying in a pool of tissues or throwing things around in a fit, but the sight he stumbled upon was certainly not in any part of his imagination.

  
Arakan was curled up on his bed, stuffing himself into a corner. The boy didn't even seem to notice him, unseeing eyes staring at the wall while his head rested on his knees. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, breath heaving and gasping. There were angry red lines on his throat as if the boy had violently clawed at it and from his scalp blood dripped down.

  
The boy looked like a wreck.

  
  
Tomura was almost tempted to step out again, but in that moment the younger boy let out such a pitiful noise, that forced him to stay. Carefully, to not startle him, Tomura inched closer to the bed, sitting down at the edge of it. Though he wouldn't have needed to bother, Arakan was too out-of-it to notice anything going on around him.

  
"Hey, Arakan.", he tried. No reaction, just those pitiful cries, that tugged at his heartstrings. ( _"It hurts so much",_ the boy was whispering.)

  
Slowly Tomura raised his right hand and let it settle on Arakan's leg.

The boy violently flinched back, voice rising hysterically. He immediately pulled his hand back. "Please! No! I'll be good, I swear! Please don't hurt me anymore! I'll be strong, I'm sorry!", the boy screamed, pressing himself even further into the corner, white hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

  
  
This wasn't good. He might have been almost five years older than the other boy, but he had no idea how to handle a panic attack. He needed help.

  
Though his attempt to get Kurogiri was promptly cut short as Arakan's small hand latched onto his sleeve with an iron grip.  
"Ok, I get it, don't leave.", he whispered to himself, suppressing another sigh.

  
"Arakan!", he spoke up loudly, only to receive a loud cry in return. He tried several times again, though not once did the boy seem aware of his surroundings.

  
"Killua!", Tomura tried, now clearly frustrated. He had heard from Kurogiri that the boy had decided on a villain name. That name grasped a reaction from the boy. He gasped, as if he had been lifted from water, breathing, but still not really there just yet. Though his eyes seemed to be a tad bit more focused.

  
"Killua! You know me! I'm Tomura!"

  
  
He didn't make the mistake to touch the boy again, instead moving his face into the other's field of vision.

  
  
"We live together, don't you know? And we train together, though you're really strong and almost always beat me." Normally Tomura wouldn't have admitted that, though now that Arakan was almost delirious, every means to an end was welcomed.

  
  
The boy had stopped rocking on his feet, though instead his breath had picked up again.

  
  
For minutes all Tomura did was talk. He described what they had been doing up to this point, going into as much detail as possible, telling him about Kurogiri and his constant need to clean, about All for One that was his father and how overwhelmingly strong he was. Though at seeing the boy flinch Tomura wisely learned to avoid the word 'father' or really anything related to family.  
His mouth had grown dry from all the talking that he'd been doing, but Arakan finally seemed calm, he was still shaking, though his breath had calmed down and his eyes took in his surrounding, then they settled on him.

  
And suddenly Tomura realised how this must look. They weren't this close, not by a lot. Comforting each other was a big no-go and Tomura had just crossed the clear line that they had drawn between each other. His back went ramrod straight. Mouth already opening to spew senseless excuses.

  
  
But Arakan didn't say anything for a while. Instead he stared at Tomura, looking as if it was the first time they really met. Then the boy started checking himself over, hands roaming over his chest and arms until bending to reach his back. What was he looking for? Tomura thought back to Arakan's mindless talking of wounds, had the boy thought he'd been wounded?

  
Not saying anything, he let the boy come to the conclusion that he was indeed fine. And what happened next would probably be engraved into Tomura's mind forever.

  
Arakan broke out crying. He wasn't loud, didn't say anything, but the tears ran down his cheeks like waterfalls and before he even thought about it, he had embraced the younger boy in his arms, letting him sob into his shirt.  
  
This was... weird, to say the least.

They weren't close. This intimacy wasn't something they shared. Though now, that he had seen Arakan at his weakest, they could forget the red line separating them, Tomura mused.

  
In the last few days Shigaraki Tomura had noticed his Sensei's odd behaviour, not thinking too much of it, but now that he saw Arakan sobbing in his arms, finally looking his age, he was forced to think. Due to his strength and knowledge Tomura sometimes forgot that Arakan was indeed just a child.

Now he was painfully made aware.

  
  
This changed behaviour of All for One had hit Arakan in a way Tomura could never hope to comprehend, but he didn't need to, somehow, comforting the younger boy seemed enough for him.

  
  
All for One didn't know.

But Shigaraki Arakan felt it coming from the horizon. Waiting.

  
A storm was brewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay excited for the next chapter! It might take a bit longer than usual, but that's because I want it to come out as good as possible.


	17. For all have sinned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 16 - Recap:  
> This changed behaviour of All for One had hit Arakan in a way Tomura could never hope to comprehend, but he didn't need to, somehow, comforting the younger boy seemed enough for him.
> 
> All for One didn't know.
> 
> But Shigaraki Arakan felt it coming from the horizon. Waiting.
> 
> A storm was brewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo... 4K words...  
> Could contain spoiler if you don't know the origin of All for One and One for All...  
> TW: blood, excessive violence, scars (kinda), anxiety, tiny panic attack (if you squint)

By definition, heroes were people full of extinguished courage or abilities, admired for their oh-so brave deeds and noble qualities.   
  
This was a world where being a _superhero_ qualified as a valid career. And the image looked pretty: men and women in all kinds of costumes saving those in need and being cheered on by the masses.   
  
But that image was nothing but blasphemy.   
  
After all, _not all men were created equal._   
  
In this world full of fake ideals, essentially, everyone was sorted into one of three categories: Heroes, Civilians and Villains. Of course, there were subcategories like vigilantes or even police officers, but those were just on the outer part of the web of lies, called society.  
The moment someone developed their quirk or didn't appear to have one, at all, they were subjected to one of these three categories.   
  
Dangerous was overshadowed by flashy: therefore, a hero quirk.   
  
Though if your quirk was even remotely destructive or just different from others, you didn't belong. After all, those quirks were villainous.   
  
And if your quirk wasn't quite suited for combat, you were written off as useless, as someone in need of protection. 

  
It made All for One sick. 

  
What had his precious world become, when the worth of humans was defined by their quirk? 

  
  
Sometimes, on days where All for One simply watched the world move, he thought back to the old days. Back, when quirks were seen as a disease, incurable and deadly in its own sense. A quirk didn't mean physical death, instead you died socially. Whispers behind backs, pointed stares, avoidance, discrimination, hate, violence and especially fear. So much fear. Fear was the path to the dark side. Fear led to anger. Anger led to hate and hate led to suffering.  
He had done the only thing his quirk was meant for. The people were grateful, begging on their knees to be ridded of their disease. And All for One had been willing. He took and took and all they did was give. They bowed down to him, worshipped the ground he walked on, after all, he had healed them, now they could become part of society again. 

  
Everything had been great. 

  
People gathered around him like moths to a flame. Without his intention he had build an empire filled with society's rejects, quirks.  
He had been doing the right thing.   
  
Though as it was with humans, they could never, under any circumstances, be of one mind. It was in their nature to disagree, to rampage and slaughter and kill. 

  
  
His beloved brother disagreed with him. 

  
  
All for One and his brother had stood on two different sides of the world, the light and the dark. His brother had been welcomed into society, free of any disease.   
All for One did not think of it as a disease. No. It was salvation.   
Salvation to the weak, death to the sinners. 

  
  
His brother disagreed, so All for One showed him salvation. 

  
There were many things All for One regretted in his long lifetime. The man didn't often make mistakes, he was a perfectionist. The world revolved around him, there wasn't even space for mistakes. Though on the rare occasion, that the man did indeed make a mistake, it would follow him for the rest of his life.   
  
When All for One thought back on it, he regretted it deeply.

His brother had never been willing to see reason, had never even thought of gaining salvation.   
In his beloved brother's eyes he had been the one in the wrong. According to him, in this dreaded world there simply was no salvation. 

  
  
He remembered it as if it had just been yesterday. 

  
  
The day his brother had come to end it all. He wore his gift as if it was part of him and All for One had laughed.

How dare he talk as if there was no salvation and then embrace the salvation as if he'd never known any other. 

His brother spoke of diseases and death and corruption.   
He had asked what happened to him.   
And All for One said he had never been more himself as in that moment.   
  
He couldn't bear to kill his beloved brother that day and he didn't dare to take back his salvation. It was part of him now.   
  
A part of All for One had hoped, with time, his brother would see reason.   
  
As he did not kill his brother, the man died later on, alone in his home.   
  
All for One thought that it was the end. Everything needed sacrifices and if his new, perfect, flawless world required the death of his brother and his salvation, then that was what it got.   
  
Not even a decade later, a man came up to him and as soon as their eyes met, All for One knew his brother had come again. 

  
  
He regretted it deeply. 

  
His beloved brother should have died on the day of their battle.   
All for One had been foolish, deceived by his own feelings and now his salvation had been used against him, to haunt him to the end of world and time. 

  
  
He had killed the man. Though could not take his gift back again. 

  
  
A decade later, his brother stood before him again. 

  
  
He had killed that man, too. Though his salvation stayed with the dead. 

  
And again and again and again. 

  
  
And every time he saw their eyes he knew his brother was with them, guiding them and strengthening them. 

  
Each generation grew stronger and All for One came to despise his fight against his brother's successors.   
Not because he feared losing, but because the eyes of his brother haunted him. It had not been his fault, salvation came to those accepting it. His brother had accepted simply for the sake of eradicating his existence. 

  
All for One despised every One for All user because they never let him forget, and all he wanted was forget.   
  
  
Nana Shimura died in front of her successor's eyes and All for One knew that hatred only served to feed the fires of revenge.  
It disgusted him.   
  
They did not know their history, didn't speak to his brother, didn't understand a single thing.   
What heroes they were. Killing, because their mentors tried to kill. There was no reason behind their killing.   
All he wanted was it to end. He could not stand the feeling of his brother's eyes anymore.   
  
All for One knew that All Might grew to hate him, not because he knew of his past, but because he had killed someone precious to him. All for One thought One for All users were hypocrites. They had no right to demand his death and end his strength, when their strength had been his doing.   
  
  
  
The man sighed, shook his head and set the coffee cup down onto the table.   
  
_What hypocrites they were, indeed_ , the man thought as the mansion caved in around him.

* * *

"God, this is ridiculous.", Tomura groaned, leaning his head back until it touched the train's window.  
  
"So you've said eight times in the last hour.", Killua instantly responded, gaze not lifting from the book held in his hands.  
  
"Why couldn't we just have teleported there?", the older boy continued to whine, though this time, directing his complaints at Kurogiri.  
  
The three of them were seated in one of the bullet trains heading to the outskirts of Mie.  
  
"Teleporting would be of no use, as we were told to search for a fitting new building. We do not have coordinates I could open a warpgate to.", the man answered, regarding Tomura with something akin to annoyance.

  
  
Killua stared at the page of his book, eyes taking in letters, but not reading a single thing. He was distracted.  
It was highly unusual for his father to send him off without explicitly telling him why and where to. Furthermore, they weren't even in need of a new building, after all, they had their mansion. It was home.  
A certain feeling spread through his body, though he wouldn't be able to name it even if he tried to.  
Was it dread? Or an omnious kind of foreshadowing? Whatever it might have been, Killua regretted leaving the mansion. He should have stayed with his father, or at least, placed tracking and surveillance quirks on the man.

  
Killua sighed. Time ticked on and the distance between All for One and himself grew.

  
  
Tomura's complaints faded into the background, his thoughts taking up the front. There were only a few reasons why his father could have send them away. The man might have been planning something related to businesses he didn't trust Killua with yet, or, an option the boy would rather exclude, though knew not to: something was about to happen, something All for One knew not to stop. Something, that Killua wouldn't be able to handle.

  
Suddenly the book was ripped from his hands.

  
  
"Huh? The Laws of Power? Man, Arakan, you're reading weird books.", Tomura loudly exclaimed, gaining both startled and annoyed looks from people seated around them.  
The boy read a few lines of the page Killua had currently been at and dropped the book back onto his lap.

  
Another sigh left Killua's mouth, though more from exasperation than annoyance.  
After Tomura had come into his room that day, things were going better between them. Of course, they still teased and insulted each other, but now there seemed to be a deep understanding between them.  
In a weird way Killua thought his relationship with Tomura might have been what brothers usual had. Milluki and Illumi didn't compare to Tomura. It was weird and foreign. But Killua strangely didn't mind, rather he embraced it. The strangeness of their relationship.  
  
Tomura's little act had worked wonders in distracting him from his anxiety-riddled thoughts. Instead, he hyperfocused on their surroundings.

  
The area they passed was slightly run-down, nature having its way with abandoned roads. Spreading his _En_ didn't reveal anything unusual, and his quirk-based sensory was quite limited, all he could feel were the many quirks surrounding him within the train.  
Somehow, they felt warm, so in content he let the threads simply weave around his body without them actually touching him.

  
Though in the back of his head, there was the voice again. It wasn't really loud, simply whispering. Though somehow that made it worse. The voice talked loudly, screamed even, but never did it whisper. And now that it did, the words it said wouldn't leave him alone.

  
  
_"Hurry, Killua. Run fast, Killua. Can't you feel it? It's coming. Don't you see it? The wave? The wave of blood coming from the horizon? Don't you smell it? The blood. It's not your own. Isn't that funny? It's not your own! But it's coming. It's coming fast. But not for you."_

* * *

They exchanged blows quicker than the eye could follow. Hit after hit, fists meeting fists, never quite besting each other.   
Then they jumped apart, coming to rest with distance between them.  
Beneath their feet: the remains of what once was a prosperous mansion. 

  
  
All for One regarded the other man. 

  
  
Light blue cape flickering in the wind, steely boots firmly locked into a combat stance, eyes narrowed into a fiery glare and All for One could practically feel the killing intent rolling off him.

All Might looked all but ready for combat. 

  
  
"How rude.", All for One sighed, absent-minded dusting the dirt off his suit and straightening his tie.   
"I suppose heroes know of no manners, no simple greetings for a villain like me, am I right?" The villain laughed and shook his head. 

  
All Might didn't answer, glaring daggers into him. 

  
"Would you mind moving our little fight somewhere else?" 

  
  
The hero involuntarily twitched at the word _little._ This wasn't just some small fight. This would finally end the long feud between this man- no, this criminal, and rightful justice.   
  
Instead of answering, All Might pushed himself off the ground, reappearing in front of All for One in the blink of an eye.

Arm reaching back, preparing for another smash. 

  
When All Might's fist struck forward, All for One had moved behind him, evading a devastating blow. 

  
  
"This was my home, after all.", the villain continued as if he had never been interrupted in the first place. "While it is broken down now, there are still some memories hidden here, that I treasure very dearly." 

  
For the first time since their encounter All Might reacted verbally. 

  
"Don't sprout those lies! There is nothing dear to you in this world! You are a monster not capable of feeling emotions, all you do is kill and kill as if no human life mattered to you!", the man screamed, rage making his voice carry over the whole battle field.   
  
All for One frowned. What would a hero know of him? Had he once again foolishly believed someone would understand?   
Banishing those thoughts, All for One laughed, loudly, and just as before his voice filled the air around them. 

  
Despair and hatred met amusement.   
  
He had every right to be amused, after all, One for All existed simply because All for One _loved_ his brother so dearly. 

  
All Might growled and once again leaped to attack. 

  
  
He dodged the fist, head tilting to the right, a punch of his own countering. All Might caught his hand, knuckles turning white from the pressure applied. With a kick to the other's ribs, All for One freed himself.   
  
They circled each other like animals. Their eyes were locked in a duel.   
All for One grinned and All Might dashed forward once more, willing to end it all.   
  
The villain stretched his finger and reached down into the deep pool of his quirks. And they were _eager_ , meeting his call before he even chose which power to use. They were a part of him. 

  
And where his feet touched the earth rose; spikes pushed upwards, cleft ripping underneath his opponent. Tremors rippled the ground. The earth was shaking. 

  
The hero dodged to the right, barely evading a spike that would have impaled him through the gut.   
The debris of the mansion made for quite an obstacle for mobility, though that was a problem for both men. 

  
  
All Might crouched down, knees almost touching the ground, then pushed of, leaving nothing behind but a large crater.   
  
Winds whipped the white hair from his face and he looked up as the blond flew high in the sky, stopping right in front of the sun. 

  
All Might's arm reached back, fist clenching. 

  
  
" _ **New Hampshire Smash!**_ " 

  
In the fraction of a second All Might propelled forwards, heading straight for the villain like a missile.   
  
Barely in time, All for One crossed his arms, the tell-tale ripple of his shield-quirk filling the air.   
  
The shield shattered on impact and All Might's fist met his cheek.   
  
They flew apart, All Might barely skidding to a stop, while All for One crashed through the remains of walls and door frame. 

  
He laughed. 

  
  
God, this was fun!   
  
The villain lifted himself from the rubble, touching the tender flesh of his cheek.   
  
Had it not been for his shield and the many enhancements flowing through his body, his head might as well have been ripped cleanly off.   
  
Before All for One could fully get to his feet, All Might had shot forwards again. Fist outstretched to deal another blow.   
Though this time All for One took the initiative. 

  
Twisting his body just right, his chest and All Might's arm formed a parallel.   
Too far in his movement to dodge, the hero could only watch as All for One's arm transformed into a huge sledgehammer and dropped down onto his arm, crushing it like a tiny pebble. 

  
Jumping back, distance between them grew again. 

  
  
"Haven't had enough, yet?", All for One asked, noticing how the other man cradled his broken arm to his chest.  
What a pitiful sight, indeed.   
  
Though the will in his eyes still burned high. 

  
"If one arm was not enough, I'll simply break all of your limbs." 

  
All Might's left arm rose. 

  
" ** _Texas Smash!_** " 

  
  
All around him wind picked up, debris flying off as if stuck to a rocket.   
A flick of his hand made a stronger shield appear before him.   
  
The attack didn't do any harm to All for One, now, besides the bruise blooming on his broken cheekbone, scratches adorned his face.   
Though judging by All Might's triumphant look, All for One soon realized that the attack was never meant to harm him in the first place.   
  
The powerful gusts of wind had cleared the battlefield, now they could fight on even ground. 

  
And he was on the move again, the name of a punch laying on the tip of his tongue. 

  
  
" _ **California Smash**_!" 

  
  
With a somersault to build momentum, the gathered air pressure released in a huge blast wave.   
  
The earth rose in front him to act like a shield.   
All for One remained unharmed.   
  
Tendrils ripped from his arms, lashing out at the hero and forcing him to dodge. They wove through the air like rabid snakes, cutting into skin and costume alike.   
All Might's cape hung in shreds to his feet. 

  
  
All for One thought it was quite funny.   
  
All Might truly tried to kill him, he realised and then fought the urge to chuckle. Now, that there was no media or witnesses present, the hero could show his true colors. After all, he wouldn't win this fight if his opponent was still alive. 

  
_Hypocrites, the lot of them,_ All for One thought. Preventing violence through violence, stopping murders through killing.   
What a sick world it was. 

  
The villain sank into the shadows only to reappear behind the hero, crushing his left leg like he had done to his arm before. 

  
All Might didn't scream, instead, with not an ounce of hesitation, turned to punch a hole through his gut.   
  
The hit connected and it hurt, but it did not tear him apart. No matter how much All Might tried to hide it, he was growing weak, exhaustion threatening to overtake his frame.

* * *

Killua was growing restless. 

  
The voice was screaming by now. 

  
The distance had only grown. 

  
Now, not even Tomura's talking could fully distract him. 

He stared out of the window. 

  
  
He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, it was almost drowning out everything around him. 

  
Something was seriously wrong. 

  
His breathing picked up. 

  
Tomura was in his field of vision, mouth moving but no sound reaching his ears. 

  
  
"-u there? Can you here me?" 

  
  
Killua nodded, too numb to say anything. 

  
  
Something was off. 

  
  
"Breathe with me, okay?", Tomura said, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out through his mouth. 

  
Killua tried to mimic it, he really did, but the voice made rational thinking quite hard. 

  
  
And then he felt it. 

  
  
It was like someone was squeezing his heart, hoping for it to burst.  
The pain spread through his body. 

  
Abruptly he stood up from his seat. 

  
He didn't waste time, feet already moving to run and then, with a leap, he broke through the train's window, cushioning his fall through a roll. 

  
  
The screams of passengers shoved to the back of his head. 

  
Before he knew Killua was sprinting the way they had come, leaving both Kurogiri and Tomura behind. 

  
He didn't know where he was running to, but something primal in his gut led him. 

  
  
The wind hit painfully against his cheeks leaving red marks, sweat pooled around his neck, running down into his shirt. His breath came out in gasps and he felt close to collapsing. 

  
  
" _Go on! Run faster! You're not fast enough!_ " 

  
  
Killua dreaded what he would find upon arrival. Memories of Gon flashing through his mind. Of a Gon he had been too late to save. Gon that had lost his humanity. 

  
  
His speed doubled, overcoming human limits. 

  
  
All kinds of quirks pushed into his limbs, strengthening his legs and making him feel like he was set on fire.   
  
The world around him was a blur, but he was still somehow too slow. 

  
_ "Too late! You're going to be too late! Run, the wave is coming!",  _ it screamed and all Killua wanted was to scream along with it. 

  
  
Slowly but surely his surroundings seemed familiar.   
The streets his father and him had walked on.   
  
The crowds they had so keenly observed.   
  
This was his home.   
  
Shivers ran down his spine.   
Everything was abandoned. Shops closed, streets void of any people, the only noise his irregular breath and footsteps too hurried to quieten. 

  
  
They were all gone. 

  
  
Killua ran even faster, putting everything he got into his legs, wishing upon every deity he knew to make him go faster. 

  
Blurs, all he saw were blurs and then all the way in the distance he saw chaos. 

It was pure and utter chaos. 

  
  
Their mansion was no more and even from the distance he could see the two figures dancing along to death. 

  
He screamed and screamed, but not a single tone left his mouth. 

  
All he could do was watch and hope to arrive in time.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
All Might was tired and so was All for One. 

  
  
The villain hated it. The fighting. The mindless attacks, the hatred without reason, the fear and the memories. 

  
  
He could feel it drawing to an end.   
All Might could feel it, too. 

  
  
His quirks heated his skin from underneath. He stared head-on.   
And then-

  
  
No. 

  
  
No. 

  
  
No. No. 

Over All Might's shoulder he could see a white flash. The world froze around him. No. It couldn't be. Why was he here? He was supposed to be safe! 

  
And in that one brief moment that All for One had noticed Killua approaching he _froze_. 

  
And that was All Might's chance.  
  


  
  
Killua saw his hand reaching out. Somehow, it felt like a tidal wave was about to sweep his father far away, out into the open sea where Killua could never even hope to reach him. 

And in that moment, Killua realized he was about to lose _his father_.

Surpassing his limits, electricity burned his skin. 

  
  
_Godspeed_ set him ablaze. 

  
  
He was upon them in the blink of an eye. 

  
  
_"Too late.",_ the voice whispered. 

  
  
He met All Might's eyes. 

  
  
He was weak, tired, his way there leaving him with bone-deep exhaustion. 

  
He pushed his father with everything he had left. 

  
  
_"Not enough!"-_ _ **"United States of Smash!"**_

  
  
All Might's hand came down the same time Killua struck. 

  
  
_Aim for his heart, his heart- heart!_

  
  
His hand was shaking, barely managing to keep his nails sharpened. 

  
  
All for One was moved out of the way, though not nearly enough. 

  
All Might punched down with a last roar. 

  
Every noise canceled out except for the terrible sound of breaking and shattering bones. 

  
Where All Might would have hit All for One's head, his legs now laid shattered. 

Killua choked, feeling hot blood splatter across his back. 

But he couldn't turn around, couldn't look yet. 

  
  
His eyes still held the gaze of All Might. 

  
  
And his own hand had impaled the hero's gut. 

  
  
The man looked down at him, blood gushing passed his lips and staining Killua's face red. 

  
  
There was so much blood on him. 

  
  
Beneath his feet blood pooled and Killua didn't have to look to know it was his father's. 

_"Too late."_ , the voice whispered. 

  
  
With a sickening squelch Killua pulled his hand from the hero's abdomen. 

Blood splattered against his chest. 

  
  
He had missed. 

  
  
He should have had All Might's heart in his hand. 

  
  
He had failed. 

  
  
Killua finally turned, ignoring the loud thud as the hero's body fell to the ground. 

  
  
Instead he stared at his father's face that was so painfully void of any emotion. 

  
  
He knelt down, carefully pushing All for One's head up onto his lap.

Raindrops running down his face instead of tears he couldn't shed. 

  
  
"What happened to you?", his father said, voice so weak that Killua had to lean in to understand. 

  
  
He knew the man was talking about the scars now adorning his whole body, Lichtenberg scars. 

  
  
Godspeed had done that to him. 

  
  
But Killua didn't say what he thought, instead burrowing his face in his father's white hair, sobbing silently.   
Always caring about him as if he had been the one to lose his legs.  
  
  
  
  
  
Killua sat in the rain for a very long time. 

The water not doing anything to stop the heavy smell of iron in the air. 

  
He rocked back and forth, holding his father, not letting go. 

  
  
He was alive. 

  
  
He didn't cry, but he sobbed and screamed and let the rain act as his sorrow.  
  
  
Not once did his father's gaze stray from him, it looked at him with warmth and told him of so many things he couldn't say.   
  


  
  
  
The police sirens cut through his regret.  
  
  
They were coming for All Might.  
  
  
The man was still alive. Killua knew he had failed.  


  
  
  
And so he swore. 

  
Swore to eternity, swore to heaven and hell, that the symbol of peace, the number one hero 

**All Might** would fall by his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say, I really do appreciate you guys a lot. It always makes my day reading the comments and I hope you will continue to stay by my side on this (rather long) journey :)


	18. Of NPCs and players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 17 - Recap:  
> The police sirens cut through his regret.
> 
> They were coming for All Might.
> 
> The man was still alive. Killua knew he had failed.
> 
> And so he swore. 
> 
> Swore to eternity, swore to heaven and hell, that the symbol of peace, the number one hero 
> 
> All Might would fall by his hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one this time, but you know Christmas and stuff, hopefully the next one will be a bit longer *sigh*
> 
> But enjoy nonetheless :)

Sometimes Killua felt like he was drowning.  
  
His head was stuck in a bubble of never-ending water that made him view the world in a distorted shape.  
  
There were times when the bubble was gone and times when it wouldn't come off, no matter what Killua tried.  
Today was one of those odd days. His vision was constantly blurry, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and static rang in his ears.  
  
He tried to distract himself, visiting their new headquarters.  
A run-down bar.  
  
From the wall all the way to the floor, everything had seen better days. The counter looked like it would break apart if anything came even close to touching it and the shelves behind it couldn't even be called furniture anymore.  
He missed their mansion.

  
  
Tomura came down the stairs, not looking to be in any better shape than himself.

  
  
He barely raised his hand in greeting, still busy criticizing every thing he saw in the room.  
  
"Touch the counter please.", he asked the older boy, just as he had come to stand next to him.  
  
He could feel Tomura's gaze, didn't turn around to acknowledge it though.  
Somehow he was drained of any effort and couldn't spare to care for decencies.  
  
In spite of concerns growing in the back of his mind, Tomura started to remove the glove of his right hand.  
And it was quite satisfying to see when the counter dissolved into nothing but fine dust particles. The sight almost forced laughter out of him.  
  
God, he felt weird.  
  
He was somehow veiled in a thin film of carefully crafted apathy and it didn't seem to want to let him go.  
  
Instant of verbally expressing his thanks, Killua nodded in gratitude and stepped next to him, right before the disintegrated counter top.  
  
His quirk reacted before he knew to call it.  
  
And before their eyes, wood grew out of Killua's fingertips growing and twisting in shape, then it crawled forward like a lazy snake resting on the remains of the counter. The wood grew in size, adjusting its form and finally, settled in the shape of a new counter top.

  
  
Time flew by quite fast. Tomura and Killua had settled on a few freshly created bar stools and just talked. It wasn't serious, really. They just said what came to mind just then, living the moment as best as two broken boys could. They mentioned trivial things, interests and rumors and heroes and everything that young boys should get to talk about.  
They were far from normal, far from the image of normal children.  
But this talk was necessary to take their mind away from certain things.  
To take their mind off the fact that All for One laid still in a hospital bed, not showing signs of waking for more than a month now.  
They talked and didn't think of those things.  
  
Then Killua sighed and with that expression of sorrow the weight came back.  
This incident couldn't just be forgotten like that.  
"Do you want to kill All Might?", Killua asked as if the two hadn't just talked about heroes minutes before.  
  
Tomura nodded and the look in his eyes told him so much about how heroes had failed this society.  
  
It would have been painfully easy for Killua to murder the hero in his home, had he known the man's real name. And finding it wouldn't have been an act either.  
  
However, Killua didn't think he deserved such a death. No, All Might would go down in a grand battle.  
Not because he deserved to die like the hero he portrayed himself to be, but because Killua wanted to reveal it all.  
He wanted to tear it to shreds, this society that had forced his hand, forced his father's hand.  
  
To be honest, he didn't know where his conviction came from. The red, hot feeling of revenge bubbling in his gut. The need to avenge his father. He just knew it was there and he would act on it.  
Gon wouldn't have approved and Killua thought that would make him a hypocrite, after all Gon had been driven by revenge as well.  
Gon would have disapproved, but Gon wasn't part of this world.  
  
Killua would get his revenge. And he would show the whole world the corruption of hero society, the wrongdoings of those who had sworn to protect, the lies and the meaningless ideals.  
Killua would take it all down, so his father could create a world of truth.  
  
"We need men to take All Might down.", Killua said, showing no signs of his inner turmoil, picking at his nails instead.  
  
Tomura hummed in thought and brushed a hand through his hair, the other hand inched closer to the scratch marks on his neck.  
  
"Right now, we need to make them believe father died. They need to feel safe as we build up an army to destroy the throne they've sat themselves on."  
  
"You should still go out in your disguise though. Make them realise they're dealing with his legacy.", Tomura instantly added, grin stretching dry skin around his mouth.  
"They need to come to the conclusion that no matter what they do, _All for One_ will never be truly gone."  
  
Killua copied Tomura's grin, his quirk answering his emotions and heating his body up until he felt like he was glowing.  
His quirk sensed it, too. The revolution they would soon be part of.  
  
"Then I'll leave you in charge of an organisation.", Killua said and took a sheet of paper and a cheap pencil, pushing the items over to Tomura.  
"Get creative!"  
  
Tomura was excited, already scribbling down a few name ideas. He just knew that Sensei would be proud of them as soon as he woke up. All their work would be worth it if it could just bring them a step closer to achieving their goal.  
"We need Damagedealers and Tanks and Assassins!", he almost shouted, ripping the paper with the furious movements of his pencil. "Preferably a healer, too! And cannon fodder, lots of cannon fodder... NPCs we can just throw away...", he continued mumbling, scratching around on the paper as Killua watched him with amusement.  
  
Milluki had been the one to introduce him to video games and while he didn't really associate the games with something positive, gaming was fun on some days. Therefore, Tomura's game-infused talking wasn't actually that hard to understand.  
  
Killua let his gaze roam the bar again. While they were certainly not in need of money, it would be better to lay low and not make too much use of All for One's assets. In the last few minutes the boy had entertained the thought to use the bar as a source of income.  
He knew Kurogiri knew how to mix drinks because of the many nights he had seen him preparing his father's drinks.  
And a bar was the greatest place for collecting intel and passing secret messages, once organized, Killua knew it could become a great asset.  
  
Tuning back into Tomura's talking, he stole a glance at some of the name ideas only to hold back his laughing.

_Dark Empire, Villains' Unit, Revolution of Villains._

Killua just hoped Kurogiri would stop Tomura from actually naming his organization like that.  
  
"Let's say our party is currently on level 18 and the level required for the start of our quest is around 43, then we would need some actual high-ranking players to boost our party! Right now, players are more important than NPCs! Cannon fodder can be found later.", Tomura suddenly spoke up, circling something that looked like a chart on the paper.  
  
"Think you could find some players during your missions?"  
  
Killua frowned, taking a minute to actually consider it. His missions usually didn't take that long, ranging from theft, murder and sometimes even kidnapping. It wasn't often that he met other villains. And even if he did they would disappear as soon as they recognized him, so recruiting strong villains would prove to be quite a chore. But nonetheless, trying couldn't hurt and they were in desperate need of manpower.  
  
"Sure. Could take a while though."  
  
Tomura didn't take to verbally reply, already adding to his notes again and absent-minded Killua wondered how the sheet wasn't fully written on just yet.  
  
They had a lot to do and Killua would make sure all work would be done.  
That was the least he could do right now, even though deep down, the assassin in him screeched to be let out, to let All Might be slaughtered by him.

  
  
It took Killua a lot of patience to keep him in.

  
  
His hold on his switch had loosened considerably.


	19. Seen by the moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 18 - Recap:  
> They had a lot to do and Killua would make sure all work would be done.  
> That was the least he could do right now, even though deep down, the assassin in him screeched to be let out, to let All Might be slaughtered by him.
> 
> It took Killua a lot of patience to keep him in.
> 
> His hold on his switch had loosened considerably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new character :)
> 
> TW: brief mention of suicide

Sighing Killua gently lowered the severed head to the ground and in a final act of kindness brushed his hand over the man's eyes to close the lids.   
"This wasn't supposed to go this far.", he whispered, washing his hands off with one of his water quirks.   
  
Then he sighed again and stood up from his crouch. This wasn't the first of his mission to end in unnecessary deaths.   
Though as far as it went, he wasn't really the one at fault. Not when all the men he had spoken to laughed at him.

  
  
_"A child wants to recruit us? Are you even out of your diapers yet?" The men laughed as if the joke had actually been funny and Killua pretended it was the first time he'd heard it._

  
  
If Killua could he would have altered his height alongside his looks.

The most he could do was add an inch, growth quirks came few and far along and back when Killua could have actually stolen one, he hadn't seen the use of it.   
Now he regretted that decision. What was one more quirk in his ever-growing collection anyway?

  
  
With a frown he noticed a fresh blood stain at the hem of his pants. It was still warm and made the fabric stick to his leg in a way that made him uncomfortable.  
Shivers ran down his spine. He could already feel Kurogiri's wrath, after all the man had been the one to wash the clothes he'd used on missions.

  
The stench of blood finally registered in Killua's mind and with one final look at the mess he'd made, he turned and left the abandoned warehouse.

  
  
The streets were void of any people and the light of the street lamps were the only thing illuminating the surprisingly dark night.

  
On nights like these Killua preferred to stay at home and play a few rounds of a new game Tomura had gotten. They would sit on the couch too small for the two of them, trying to sabotage the other to make them lose the game. Kurogiri would stay in the background, as always, cleaning glasses behind the counter he had now officially taken claim to.

  
  
It wasn't much and a piece was still missing, but it was home.

  
  
Now, however, Killua pulled his jacket tighter around him and suppressed the shivers as cold wind blew right under his clothes.   
How he wished to be home right now.   
He was almost ninety percent sure Tomura was currently playing a video game and Kurogiri was preparing a dish he could eat after his long night of recruiting finally ended.   
  
Though with one glance at the watch around his wrist he knew until he could eat it would take a while.   
  
Another sigh escaped his mouth.  
  
 _I've been doing that an awful lot lately,_ Killua thought, almost sighing again.

  
He was tired. Not because it was the middle of the night and boys his age usually were sound asleep around now.   
The past few weeks all he had done was run around districts searching for anyone willing to listen to a child and their world domination plans.   
As anyone could have guessed, those type of people were rare and even if, by chance, he found someone willing to listen, they only did so because they thought he was easy prey.   
They died before they could even try anything.  
  
All Killua wanted was a break, it had been ages since he had eaten dinner together with Tomura and Kurogiri.   
And to be honest, he should have been used to that. The Zoldycks had never eaten together either, but here it was different.  
Once Kurogiri had forced Killua to the table, it was just so hard to not come again when the man's shout of _'Food's ready!'_ echoed through the house.

  
  
Killua's stomach rumbled and effectively brought him back to reality. He wasn't home just yet and he wouldn't be if he slacked off.

  
  
Resigned to his fate, Killua pushed Nen into his legs and took off into a sprint. For now he didn't have an exact location to go to, so all he did was search for a high vantage point.

  
  
And the vantage point came in form of a tall office building.   
The roof didn't have any lights and the door was locked, too.  
A great place to observe without being spotted.

  
  
On top of the roof the sounds of the city below him were completely drowned out. Not that the city was loud to begin with, but now, that Killua looked down at it from above, he could see that while the city seemed to be asleep, it wouldn't ever truly close its eyes.

  
  
He could feel the people, all of them.

Sleeping, moving around, drinking in bars, stumbling through shady alleyways.   
For him, it was quite an exhilarating feeling.   
Knowing he was above them, aware of them, though they would never know of him.  
  
Absent-minded, he wondered how many quirks he would be able to take from this distance.   
  
Though for now, he simply chose to observe. Settling down comfortably, he swung his legs over the stone railing.

  
Only an inch away from certain death Killua felt more alive than ever.

  
  
Grinning he leaned forward until he could look straight down past his feet to the city below.

  
  
The wind swept his currently black hair out of his face and in a way, it almost felt like the gusts tried to shove him behind the railing, back onto the safe roof.

  
  
A wide grin spread on his face and just to spite fate, he leaned just a tad bit more forward.

  
  
  
  
Then suddenly, he was _empty_.

  
  
  
Everything was gone, the fire burning within him was gone as if someone had emptied a bucket full of water over it.

  
  
He gaped like a fish thrown out of the water, couldn't breathe.

  
  
Then he was bound tightly, any and all movement impossible.

  
  
  
He looked down at his chest where a strange fabric had wrapped around him.

  
  
The fabric tightened and with a harsh tuck he was pulled off the railing onto the roof.   
All the air left his lungs as he landed on his back, not prepared for the sudden fall.   
  
From his position on the floor he could now see that the fabric was in fact not just fabric, but a scarf. A scarf that felt more like capture gear reinforced with metal alloy.

  
  
Black boots stepped into his vision.

  
  
Then he was pulled to his feet.

  
  
The man was tall and Killua had to throw his head back to look at him.

  
Just as himself the man wore completely black except for the yellow goggles that revealed only the barest hint of the eyes hidden underneath them. His hair was long and black and looked like it hadn't been brushed in a long time, though that was not the oddest thing about it.

Right now every single strand was floating around the man's head as if to resemble a halo.

  
  
"What were you doing there?"

  
  
The man's voice sounded just as gruff as his looks made Killua suspect.  
Though currently his mouth wouldn't even open to respond anything. Everything felt so weird. His insides felt empty as if someone had cut him open and ripped everything in sight out.

  
  
The man must have taken the lack of response as a sign of fear as his body language visibly softened and the man's hair sank down to rest on his shoulders.

  
  
Killua gasped as if it had been his first time to breathe.

  
  
The empty feeling was gone, replaced by his quirks that instantly started warming up to fight off the last remains of that hollow feeling.

  
  
He took another shuddering breath, relishing the feel of his quirks pulsing under his skin 

  
  
"Kid, why were you up here?", the man had softened his voice and he couldn't help but feel slightly offended, did this man think he was some crybaby in need of comfort?

  
  
Turning his head to look at the railing he had sat on only minutes prior, he suddenly knew the reason for the man's concern.

  
  
This looked quite a bit like Killua had deliberately sat on the edge of the railing, as if he had wanted to-

  
  
"I swear this is not what it looks like.", he instantly interrupted the man's soft talk.   
"I was just observing the city below!"

  
  
The man didn't say anything for quite a while, though the hold his scarf had on him didn't even loosen a tiny bit.   
  
"You seriously want me to believe that?", the man huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
"Kid, don't resort to this, don't be afraid to ask for help." This man seemed sure of Killua's intentions and he didn't know what to say to prove them wrong.

  
  
"I already said that wasn't why I was here!", the boy whined, annoyed by the lack of trust.

  
  
"So you decided it would be great to visit the roof of a building at 2 a.m. just so you could, how did you phrase it, _observe the city_ ?" The man sighed and shook his head.   
"Seriously, kid, how old are you even?"

  
  
"Twelve! And I'm not a kid.", Killua huffed, wiggling around in the scarf to free himself.

  
  
"Sure.", the man said and he knew he would be called _kid_ forever now.

  
"Why are you even here?", he asked. His attempt at escaping the bonds completely failing.   
  
The man snorted, though Killua couldn't be too sure. Through that thick scarf of his any noise came out slightly muffled.

  
"It's my job, I'm an underground hero."

  
At that Killua perked up. He knew Tomura was a fan of underground heroes, so he had forced himself to know as much about them as possible.   
If the man wasn't lying then Killua should be able to figure out his identity with ease.   
  
His gaze narrowed into a glare.

  
  
Someone who used a capture weapon, most likely had a quirk using their eyes-

  
  
Eraserhead!

  
  
 _Am I stupid or did I just hit my head without me noticing?_ , Killua thought.  
  
And if his hand hadn't been bound by the capture weapon, he would have definitely smacked himself for his own stupidity.   
  
Why did it take him so long to figure that out?  
  
All the clues had been practically laid out right in front of him!  
  
  
But now had come the perfect time to test something, that had been center of his curiosity for a while.

  
  
"Would you be so kind to get your capture weapon off me if I promise not to run or anything?"

  
  
Eraserhead was visibly taken aback at the sudden shift in behaviour.   
Then the scarf loosened and Killua slipped out of its folds.

  
  
"What's your name? I can't keep calling you kid.", the hero sounded resigned and it took all of Killua's willpower to not take the quirk right in front of him.  
The heat emitting from the quirk was ridiculous and Killua could see that Eraserhead was the best person for his quirk, caring for it and using it like it was meant to.  
  
Killua was sure if he tried to take it, it would take more than just a single pull to tear the thread out.

  
  
"Why would I tell you that?"

  
  
"I don't think you get what position you're in. As soon as I've got your name, I'll be calling your parents!"  
  
Killua hummed lowly.

  
  
"Your name's Eraserhead, right?"

  
  
"Don't try to avoid the question. I want your name right now."   
  
"Tough one, aren't you?", Killua laughed.

  
  
In his mind the boy shifted through his quirks in search for something fit for his need.   
  
Then he activated it.

  
  
As soon as the flames grew, they died down again.   
  
Eraserhead's hair rose back into the air, red eyes glowing behind striped goggles.   
  
"Don't try anything! You know very well quirk usage without a license is illegal.", the man growled out.  
  
"Well...", Killua grinned and somehow that face reminded Eraserhead of snake, waiting for just the right moment to strike.

  
  
"I've already tried something." The grin grew even wider.

  
  
Complete and utter joy filled his body as he had just proven one of his theories.

  
  
Eraserhead's _Erasure_ could not prevent him from using Nen.

  
  
Killua laughed, loud and filled with true amusement.

  
  
Eraserhead's scarf lashed out, though before it could come in contact, Killua jumped out of the way and landed gracefully on the railing.

  
  
The moon stood high in the sky, Killua's back turned right towards it so his shadow fell all the way onto Eraserhead's face.

  
  
"You asked for my name, didn't you?", Killua asked, voice not hinting at any of the feelings currently rushing through his blood.  
  
"Don't move, kid!", Eraserhead barked out, capture weapon raised but not striking yet.  
  


  
  
  
"My name is Killua!"  
  
  
  
  
It was interesting to see how fast the human eyes could widen when met with surprise or even any other emotion, really.

  
  
Eraserhead had had no reason to suspect the young teen with raven-black hair to be a murderer as he simply sat up on the railing staring down at the world below as if he was not part of it.   
  
  
This child right in front of him had murdered countless people, men and women alike, police officers and heroes and everyone else that got in his way.   
  
Eraserhead had only been inches away from finally catching a highly wanted criminal that no one even knew the looks or quirk of.   
  


  
  
Now Eraserhead knew.

  
  
Now he knew that Killua, a serial murderer with psychopathic tendency was _a child_.

  
  
Eraserhead felt sick.

The kid had said he was 12.

  
  
12 and a wanted criminal.  
  
12 and there was so much blood on his hands that he probably wouldn't ever be able to wash it off again.   
  
12 and Eraserhead thought he was going to kill himself.   
  
Killua was 12 and had killed.

  
  
  
  
When Eraserhead finally regained his bearings he stood alone on the rooftop.   
  
Nothing indicated the horrible truth he had just come to learn, only the moon was witness to this reality.   
  
Before he had even registered what he'd done his phone was pressed to his ear and Tsukauchi's voice rang out.

  
  
  
  
"He's a child."

  
  
" _What?-"_

  
  
"He's a child, Tsukauchi. A God forsaken child!"

  
  
" _Calm down, Aizawa. Tell me what happened."_

  
  
"Killua's a child. Barely twelve. And he kills without care, without empathy."

  
  
_"..."_

  
  
"I don't know what happened to that child. But not a single child would start killing on its own accord.   
I've seen him, Tsukauchi and I've seen his eyes. I don't know what we have done to this world that lets innocent children be ruined, but right now I only want one thing..."

  
  
_"Aizawa..."_

  
  
"I want to save that boy. No matter what it takes." Aizawa inhaled shakily.

"You should have seen his eyes, Tsukauchi. This boy needs saving more than any other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have him, Aizawa Shouta!
> 
> He just came in contact with Killua (black hair etc.), so now you probably know why Killua's done these changes to begin with...


	20. Hard times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the shorter side today as well, but we're slowly reaching the Entrance Exams (around Chapter 27... maybe) and UA chapters will definitely be longer!
> 
> Also, a milestone: 20 chapters :)

Killuathought the room smelled like death and as he sat there, at All for One's bedside, he thought the man looked like death, too.   
  
There wasn't anything about his father that looked healthy. Though it disturbed him how unbothered he was at the sight of the man laying unconscious for months.  
His reaction now was completely different than to how he'd reacted on the day his father had gotten those wounds. Now that he thought back on it, he couldn't quite explain his actions. For a moment, it had seemed like he was running towards Gon and in the next, his hand was buried in All Might's guts. 

  
In the end, he had done it for his father. 

  
While his subconsciousness might have thought of Gon, his actions had been done deliberately in the will to save his father. Not someone who was long gone, not someone that smiled so brightly that it hurt his eyes and not someone who succumbed to his own selfish reasons either.  
Killua thought to himself that he didn't miss Gon.   
  
All for One looked sickly at best and dead at worst and Killua was never one to look at it from the bright side.   
There were too many machines hooked up to the man for Killua to name them all and tubes protruded from him as if they were trying to bind him.   
Thanks to the blanket pulled up over All for One's chest he couldn't see it, but Killua knew only the thin piece of fabric hid the view of his lower body, or rather, lack thereof.   
  
Killua didn't see anything when he closed his eyes, instead he heard the sound of shattering bone over and over again, on an endless loop, resonating in his ears like a broken record. He hadn't seen how his father's legs got crushed, only felt the hot blood splatter against his back and All Might's expression as it turned gleeful for the blink of an eye. And when he thought of that face, his hand felt like it was still submerged in the heat of the hero's abdomen.   
  
The blood on his hand wasn't new, All Might's blood mixed in with the others, blood was blood and Killua had spilled enough of it to know how it felt on his hands.  
  
  
He took another look at the still figure of his father. Unlike every other person he had ever encountered All for One did not have a thread. Killua could feel his quirks, see them even, but he couldn't take them. It was interesting to see and he didn't mind the flaw his quirk had. After all, part of his strength now was only because All for One was his father. He didn't care about it, rather, he found it intriguing how his quirk instantly recognized the source it came from and refused to leech off of it. Was it a mutual thing or could All for One give Killua quirks if he wanted to?  
Killua would make sure to ask him as soon as he woke up. He ignored the voice that whispered _"If he even wakes up."_   
  
Annoyance bubbled up inside him. Not at his father but rather at the whole situation they found themselves in. He would turn thirteen soon and his father had been in a coma for so long now, that he had started forgetting the sound of his voice. And somehow the thought of truly forgetting send violent waves of nausea through him.  
He couldn't forget him! No matter what!   
  
Gritting his teeth, Killua stood from his spot on All for One's bedside and took one last look at the man that had shown him the care of a real father. Then, with heavy steps, he left the room, desperately hoping the next time he would enter it, his father would be waiting for him with open eyes.

  


  


* * *

  
  
  
Kurogiri didn't look up from his task of cleaning the shot glasses when Killua slumped down onto one of the seats of the bar, head landing on the counter with a dull thud. The white hair hid Killua's face from view and Kurogiri knew better than to speak to him when he was in that kind of mood.   
  
"Give me something strong.", he mumbled into his arm and the man couldn't help but lightly shake his head.  
Gently storing the freshly cleaned glasses in the shelf Kurogiri grabbed his ingredients and started mixing something to satisfy his master's wish.   
  
Killua didn't look up as a glass was slid next to his head, only his hand reached out for the drink. He could feel Kurogiri watching his movements.   
  
"Orange juice? Seriously?", Killua whined. What Kurogiri had mixed was far from the alcoholic drink he had wanted. The glass was put back onto the counter and with its bright orange color it felt like it was mocking him. He suppressed the sudden urge to smash the glass off the counter.   
  
"You know I can handle it!" Killua's eyes narrowed accusingly at the cloud-shaped man and the bottles of alcohol lining the shelves behind him.  
Back in his old world (when had he stopped thinking of it as his real world?) alcohol was only a means to an end. When he had wanted to drink no one would deny him.  
It didn't do what it was supposed to and it didn't even taste good, but as Killua had sat there, surrounded by dozens of empty liquor bottles, somehow the alcohol still had an effect. Even if it was only for a short while, he wanted to forget reality. Just a few moments. Until the pain of his wounds faded into the background and the static in his ears stopped clouding his senses. Until he could somehow pretend this was normal.   
  
"Just because you are in possession of an anti-toxin quirk, does not mean you are able to ' _handle it_.' Until you reached the legal age I won't be serving you anything.", Kurogiri said with a stern voice. It made him incredibly sad thinking this young boy needed alcohol to bear his everyday life. 

Had it not been for this fight, Kurogiri thought, they could have all been happy now.   
  
Killua didn't answer anything to that, barely able to quieten his sniffle.  
And something had to be seriously wrong with him, if he was close to tears just because he had been denied the drinking of alcohol. What was he? A toddler?   
  
He just wanted this feeling to stop. It felt like something was clawing and pulling at his intestines, trying to devour them. It was as if his heart was caught in a vacuum, pressure threatening to crush his ribcage.   
  
"Why don't you get Tomura to play a game with you instead?"   
Even a blind man could see that Arakan was in desperate need of a distraction of any kind. This wasn't healthy, not at all. Spending night after night outside on missions, training at the first sunlight and only stopping because it was time for his missions again. Kurogiri feared if he didn't stop him, the boy would work himself to death.   
  
"He's busy with his studies.", Killua whispered, thinking about the door to Tomura's room that had been closed for such a long time now. _It was close to midnight and Killua couldn't sleep. So sneaking towards the room next door he raised his fist to knock only to halt. There was a sign hung around the doorknob. "Do not disturb", Killua read aloud._   
  
Tomura looked tired whenever Killua caught a glimpse of him. His eyebags almost shone purple and nevertheless, he had never been without his text books.   
  
Kurogiri was aware of Tomura's studies, after all he had been the one to force the seventeen-year old to study, since the leader of a future villain organisation couldn't afford to be incompetent. Instantly he had started talking about raising his Intelligence stats and not being an NPC and Kurogiri took that as a sign that Tomura would now indeed get back to his education.   
  
Killua himself wasn't left alone and whenever he found the time and Kurogiri didn't deem him too exhausted, the man would teach him.  
After all, neither Tomura nor Killua could actually attend a school and as All for One's son and heir Killua had high expectations to meet. Though in Kurogiri's opinion, there was no need to worry, Arakan excelled in every way and had it not been for All for One, he would have been convinced the boy had an intelligence quirk.   
  
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking a break with you. Just try knocking at his door.", Kurogiri tried again, almost sighing at the miserable sight of Killua.   
  
"Will you give me a drink if I do?", Killua retorted, eyeing the high proof alcoholic beverages again. His quirks pulsed in the same beat his heart was and it felt like they were talking to him. Maybe they tried calming him or even distracting him, but their heat only made the pain in his heart grow stronger. He didn't want any of this! He wanted ~~his father~~ a drink!   
  
Kurogiri let out an audible sigh, rounded the counter and took a seat next to the boy.  
Killua didn't look at him, afraid his eyes portrayed his feelings, even though they never really did. Sure, sometimes they sparkled and sometimes they looked dull, but never once could someone read his emotions right from them. Only his father could, but Killua didn't trust his self-control right now. Not when his emotions were one big, confusing mess. As far as his luck went, his eyes were probably red-rimmed.   
  
Kurogiri didn't know what to say to cheer him up. He knew of nothing that would hide the fact that All for One hadn't woken up for more than two years. Killua's hate for heroes had risen to a drastic level because of All Might. Because the number one hero who had vowed to protect the people had taken his father from him.  
He knew he would never forgive him.  
Killua's resentment for All Might and his worry for his father fused and ate him up from the inside.  
This was a boy who missed his father and Kurogiri couldn't help with that.  
Not because he wasn't ordered to, but because he knew no one could replace what All for One was for Arakan.   
  
So instead of saying anything he just rested his hand between Killua's shoulder blades and pretended he didn't notice when his whole body shook from suppressed sobs. 

  
  
This was all he could do for him in this hard time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anyone be interested in a fanfiction where Killua joins the Phantom troupe quite early on?


	21. I spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20 - Recap:  
> He knew he would never forgive him.  
> Killua's resentment for All Might and his worry for his father fused and ate him up from the inside.  
> This was a boy who missed his father and Kurogiri couldn't help with that.  
> Not because he wasn't ordered to, but because he knew no one could replace what All for One was for Arakan. 
> 
> So instead of saying anything he just rested his hand between Killua's shoulder blades and pretended he didn't notice when his whole body shook from suppressed sobs. 
> 
> This was all he could do for him in this hard time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the idea of Phantom troupe!Killua was met with great enthusiasm from you guys, I'll start working on that draft :) Maybe I'll drop the first chapter soon, you know, as some form of preview, but we'll see..
> 
> On to today's chapter!  
> So 3K and our usual T/W: blood, a little talk about mental health issues

Killua stumbled out of bed even before he had regained full consciousness. The sudden cold send shivers down his body and for a minute all he could see were colorful dots. A few steps forward send him tumbling into his nightstand and only his hands stopped him from crashing to the ground. His body and mind felt incredibly heavy. But he didn't have time to wait for himself to properly wake up.   
  
He didn't care how much noise he made, didn't care for the fact that the door to Tomura's room opened. He didn't have time. His feet carried him and his Nen pulsed, ready to send him into _Godspeed._  
  
Then he arrived and with a breath he pushed the door open. 

  
  
And there he was. 

  
  
The moonlight barely lit the room and the shadows crept over the floor towards him, but all his focus had turned towards the bed.   
  
All for One wasn't sitting up, from his position Killua was sure he hadn't even moved a tiny bit, but he had sensed it. His father's quirk was restless, vibrating even. So strong that it had ripped him out of his sleep.   
  
It was awake, pulsing with life even. Just from his spot at the door frame Killua could feel it reaching out to him. His father was waking up. 

  
  
Eyelids moved, slowly. 

  
  
He held his breath. 

  
  
They opened.

A flash of blue irises. 

  
  
He met his father's eyes head on. 

  
  
The man didn't say anything, but Killua could feel the cold claws crawling around in his mind and devouring everything in their path.   
  
It started as simple pin pricks. 

Gentle touches to his mind, to his memories. A cold sensation spread from his forehead all the way down to every last one of his toes. Oddly enough, he didn't shiver. The cold hurt, nothing compared to the approach to his mind. Then the pin pricks turned into claws. He clenched his eyes shut at the penetrating pain in his head. Something was invading his mind, intruding where it was not supposed to be. He knew it was his father's doing, but this invasion felt familiar. His forehead pulsed in remembrance of an old wound. Along with the painful pulse of his father's invisible touches, the phantom pain of needles returned to him. The further All for One went the faster the pain grew. 

Blood started dripping from his nose. Pictures flashed in front of closed eyes. _His brother's hand was reaching out to him, threatening to cover his face with it. His aura was ominous and he had hurt him, the needles._  
He gasped and instantly took a step back, but his father remained in his mind, still not finding everything he was searching for.   
  
Killua wondered if his father saw the bleeding nose of his son. He wondered if he even cared.   
  
With one last painful stab to his mind, All for One's hands retreated from the inside of his head and Killua slumped against the wall, sinking down to the floor.   
It had always been his mind. His greatest weakness. Everyone simply invaded it without ever acknowledging him. 

  
  
_But,_ Killua decided, _if it's for father I'll endure the pain._

  
  
_It's only a weakness because you aren't strong enough,_ the voice in his head whispered and every word resonated painfully in his weakened mind.

  
  
  
His father had woken up, taken one glance at him and knew what had happened in all those months he had left his son alone.

  
  
  
Hurried steps announced the arrival of Tomura. 

"God, Arakan, it's not even three in the morning, why are you running like-", then he stopped mid-sentence, taking in the sight before him.   
  
Arakan was slumped on the ground, the only thing holding him upright was the wall and there was a steady drip of blood from his nose. 

  
Instantly the boy was by his side. 

  
And it was ridiculous, really. 

Killua remembered the times when Tomura and he had hated each other. Back then the only communication they shared were harsh glares filled with jealousy on one side and unreasoned anger on the other. Killua had been content with the walls he'd built around himself and Tomura had seemed to accept them, too. Until the day everything broke down and the other Shigaraki forcefully made his way through the remains of his walls.   
It wasn't like any familial relationship he'd had before, but deep down Killua was content to call Tomura his brother in everything but blood.   
  
And now that he sat there next to him on the ground trying his best to support his body, Killua was really glad Tomura was by his side. 

  
  
"Sensei!"

"What happened?", Tomura asked, completely baffled. One second Arakan was running past his room as if the devil himself was chasing him and the next he found him laying lifelessly on the ground. 

  
  
Cold blue eyes turned from the weak figure of Arakan to Tomura. 

  
  
And he knew that gaze good enough to shut up and stop all his questions from spilling from his lips.   
Next to him Killua's breath had turned from laboured to slightly irregular and Tomura thought that was a good sign. 

  
  
For quite a long time no one said anything and the silence pressed down on them to an almost painful degree. His hand around Arakan's wrist clenched so tightly the knuckles turned a stark white. It was unbearable, being under Sensei's scrutinizing eyes without knowing why or what he had to do to free himself from this situation.   
Tomura held his head low, eyes strictly fixed on the floor in front of the villain's bed. Right now he didn't know if he'd survive another eye contact.   
  
"Father, what are you doing?" Tomura's head turned just enough for Killua to notice his desperate glare. And while Arakan might have been his biological son Tomura didn't know what All for One would do to him. He'd just woken up from a two-year long coma and the first thing he did was force his son to his knees. 

Right now, Tomura was sure of it, All for One was not in the right mind. If he would guess, the man was probably burning up with hate for hero society, or more specifically, All Might. 

  
  
"My plans will need to be commenced earlier than I had expected." 

It didn't feel like he was speaking to them, no, Killua was sure his question hadn't even registered in the man's mind.   
His father's eyes turned to him and Killua couldn't help but flinch back against the wall already expecting the harsh pain of the mental quirk again. When it didn't come, Killua's body filled with shame. That one time his father had hurt him and Killua made a big deal out of it. It clearly wasn't. Rationally he knew it wasn't. And he was used to so much worse. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't find a reason of this new found fear. Fear that his father would hurt him again. 

  
  
_Pathetic, aren't you?,_ the traitorous voice in his head spoke up again and for once Killua didn't necessarily disagree. 

  
  
His father didn't use the mental quirk again, instead he stared at the boy and saw both an asset and his son at the same time. Now it was just a simple question of where his priorities laid. 

  
  
"You will attend high-school, Arakan." 

  
  
Killua didn't react, this felt like a mission assignment that he was so awfully used to that he could probably doze off a bit and still remember every noteworthy detail. Right now though, he didn't even dare blink.  
Next to him Tomura let out an audible gasp as if he'd been the one told to go to school.   
  
Underneath the strong feeling of apathy Killua had to admit he was indeed a tiny bit curious about this so called school as he had never attended one in both of his lives. He'd always had private tutors, family members and strangers alike. His family had never seen the need to send him to school, not when all the other students posed a great threat to his upbringing as an assassin.   
The idea of school in this life send both a thrill of excitement and waves of nausea through him. It would be horrible to be around people his age when they didn't know a thing about him and he had to pretend his hands weren't soaking red. On the other hand, it would sure prove to be fun to see just how far he could take his manipulations. 

  
  
"The age of these false heroes will come to an end, but for that I need them to feel safe within their own ranks. You will infiltrate them and gather intel during your attendance." 

  
  
That was a short debrief, if he'd ever heard one. It didn't tell him anything about his mission, really. Infiltrate, sure, he could do that. But to what extent? Was he supposed to gain the trust of both students and teachers? Did he have limits how far he could go? Had his infiltration one specific goal?   
He hated not knowing things, it felt like something was poking at his gut and Killua was desperate to stop that feeling. 

  
  
"What school is he even supposed to go to?", Tomura scoffed as if Arakan attending school was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard in a while.   
  
All for One's harsh glare made him quiet down in an instant. 

  
  
"While I was not talking to you, he will be attending UA-High." 

  
  
Tomura choked and in the back of Killua's mind that name rang some bells though he couldn't really picture anything from it. Judging by Tomura's reaction though Killua mused UA was some kind of big-shot school with a tighter security than the president's own home.   
  
"All Might's alma mater.", he heard Tomura whisper beside him.   
  
The name instantly fueled the raging fires of hate in Killua's gut and now he could think of the reason for his infiltration. As the number one's former school, it was almost guaranteed that somewhere inside that building there was All Might's file. 

  
  
"Failure is not an option. You know what failure means." 

  
  
Killua nodded sharply. 

  
  
"Do not get revealed, once your cover is blown we will not aid you." 

  
  
He swallowed and his dry throat contracted. 

  
  
"Arakan, you need to shine the brightest, so that no one will see the darkness there is to you." 

  
  
He could do that. He had to. If Killua could do one thing it was _pretending_. If his father wanted him to act like a hero, then Killua would be the greatest hero there was. And when the time was right, Killua would return to his father's side. 

That's how it was. 

He knew how to follow orders. 

  
  
"I will inform you of more details when I find it necessary. For now, Kurogiri will help you prepare for the entrance exam and answer any remaining questions you have." 

  
  
"Yes, father.", Killua answered, he knew what a dismissal was when he heard one. But he didn't move to leave the room, something inside him hoped for his father's care. Proof that his father believed in him. 

  
  
"Leave, Arakan. That was all I have to say to you." 

  
  
_He's not trying to hurt me on purpose, he's not like them,_ Killua desperately thought to himself to cover the freshly done tear in his emotions.

He tried opening his mouth to say something, but his throat betrayed him and not a single tone left him. Instead he simply nodded and pushed himself off the ground. 

It was hard. 

His body still felt weak due to the effects of the mental quirk used on him and the lack of sleep. He stumbled and Tomura caught his elbow to steady him.

  
Killua couldn't look him in the eyes. 

  
  
With faint steps he left the room. 

  
  
And as Tomura tried to follow him out, All for One spoke up again.  
"Tomura, I am not done with you." 

  
  
_Of course he isn't,_ Killua laughed and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Then the door closed behind him and every word of the conversation he could have listened in on cut off. 

  
  
Right in front of the door Killua sank down to his knees again, knowing that All for One had just kicked him out.   
  
He knew not to expect something, really. But some childish part in him had hoped that All for One had missed him, laying asleep for two years. He didn't expect words of care, certainly not a hug, but some pathetic part of him wanted a smile. Just for him. 

  
God, with his nails Killua scratched at the dried blood around his nose, he was so pathetic. He wasn't a child anymore, who was he to wish for a smile from his father?   
  
In the back of his mind he wondered if All for One was smiling at Tomura right now. 

And the hot, blazing jealousy was back again.   
  
He clenched his hands to fists and pushed himself up again. 

  
He couldn't care less, Killua thought. In his first childhood he hadn't even gotten a speck of affection in a year and now he was begging for it like it saved his life. 

  
Gon had hated it when he shut out his emotions, but right now Killua hated his feelings more than anything else in the world. 

  
  
It was frighteningly easy to flip his switch. 

  
  
And the change that came with it felt like heaven. It was as if a wave had washed everything away and Killua reveled in the feeling of absolutely nothing. 

He just didn't care and it felt great. 

  
  
All for One could care for Tomura all he wanted, right now Killua didn't need him. 

  
  
And with that final thought he walked away from the door, ignoring the painful twinge of his heart.

* * *

  
  
Ever since they had renovated the bar, it had become a popular drinking spot for both villains and morally grey vigilantes. And as it usually was on a Saturday night, Kurogiri had all hands full with serving their customers and keeping an ear open for interesting rumors.   
  
Despite the busy state of affairs, Kurogiri did not miss when Arakan came down the stairs from their living quarter only to sneak through the crowd and out the front door of the bar.   
And if anyone had paid special attention to the cloud-shaped villain they would have noticed the furrowed eyes. 

  
For Kurogiri teaching the young master Arakan was always fun, especially with that bright mind of his. Though as his teacher he just couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in the boy's behaviour. 

The child had some fundamental issues that were so deeply ingrained into him that sometimes Kurogiri thought he had been born with them. 

For one Arakan's abandonment issues had only increased as Tomura had turned his attention towards his studies rather than the other boy and Kurogiri noticed just how unhealthy a lot of relationships were to the young child. 

On a basic level, the man didn't agree with his master's decision to send a child so young out on murder sprees, but he could not disobey the villain even if he had wanted to, so all he could do was await Arakan's arrival, feed him and prepare new unstained clothes for him.  
Arakan had a really weird relationship with his father, on some days Kurogiri thought the boy hated the thought of being a family, of being related to someone by blood and on other days the boy craved his father's acknowledgement as if it was a lifeline saving him from drowning. And in a way it sure was.

But it was not healthy.

Kurogiri thought it was mentally damaging for Arakan to live only for his father's validation. If he could not please his father, for Arakan, there was no reason to life.

  
It made Kurogiri sick, but he knew he could never change that mindset, the only one who could was All for One himself. And Kurogiri knew his master good enough to know that he did not care for such _trivial_ things as his son's mental health as long as he still worked and fulfilled his requirements.   
  
When another customer called out to him from a corner table, Kurogiri knew he didn't have time to spend on those thoughts and got back to work.   


  
  
  
It was several hours after the bar had closed that Arakan returned. 

And all the while Kurogiri had sat on one of the bar stools and waited for his young master's return. 

  
  
When the door to the bar opened, Kurogiri expected anyone but Arakan. Though as the boy walked into the room, face completely void of any emotions, clothes stained red and blood dripping from his hands, Kurogiri thought the boy made for a pitiful sight.   
  
Standing up from his seat he grabbed a cloth and started wiping away the splatter of blood on the boy's face. 

Both of them knew he could have easily done it by himself, though Arakan didn't make a move to stop him. He just stared on with those emotionless eyes of his. 

  
  
"You should try to find your own goal, young master.", Kurogiri whispered as he pulled the blood-soaked shirt over the boy's head. It had taken a while to get the blood stains out of his snow-white hair. 

  
  
"But my father-" 

  
  
Kurogiri interrupted him before that thought could take a bigger form.   
  
"Arakan, only living to please your father's wishes does not qualify as a goal.", Kurogiri pressed out as if addressing the truth caused him physical pain. 

  
  
And in fact, Killua knew that. He knew he didn't have his own goal, a reason to live.  
But what else was he supposed to do in this world where everything he had ever done turned into nothing and all his goals had disappeared into thin air? This was all he knew to do, follow orders and please his father. It was just like he was raised to do.   
  
He couldn't have any real goals. Not when Gon was not here, Alluka was not here and all he could do was kill and not even that gained appreciation from his father. 

  
  
Killua clenched his fists and let Kurogiri continue cleaning without saying anything. 

  
  
He couldn't say anything. Nothing that would convince Kurogiri that, yes, he didn't have a reason to live, yes, he didn't care, but he was fine. Really. This wasn't anything he wasn't used to. 

  
  
"You know, Kurogiri, not killing people is really hard. Clean living is though.", he murmured softly. 

  
  
Kurogiri only hummed and wiped away the blood between his fingers. 

  
  
"I've killed because father wanted me to. But to tell the truth, it's the only thing I can do. I can't have a goal of my own, it's enough for me to fulfill my father's wishes. If he wants to use me as a tool, that's fine. I wouldn't know it any other way." 

  
  
Kurogiri didn't say anything. It was sad, but he couldn't change anything. All he could do was stay by his side until maybe some day his young master had found his own will to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another change in All for One's behavior and Killua's reaction to it.
> 
> Actio = Reactio  
> I think that applies rather well to this fanfiction.


	22. Until the bitter end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21 - Recap:  
> "You know, Kurogiri, not killing people is really hard. Clean living is though.", he murmured softly. 
> 
> Kurogiri only hummed and wiped away the blood between his fingers. 
> 
> "I've killed because father wanted me to. But to tell the truth, it's the only thing I can do. I can't have a goal of my own, it's enough for me to fulfill my father's wishes. If he wants to use me as a tool, that's fine. I wouldn't know it any other way." 
> 
> Kurogiri didn't say anything. It was sad, but he couldn't change anything. All he could do was stay by his side until maybe some day his young master had found his own will to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of sad chapters lately, this one's slightly intense...
> 
> T/W: self-harm, cursing, descriptions and mentions of dissociation, mentions of panic attacks

Awareness returned in stages as Killua fought against the invisible claws of a nightmare. It took a while for him to settle back into reality as cold sweat ran down his skin and his chest rose with erratic breathes.  
He couldn't remember what he had dreamt and looking down at his trembling hands, he didn't want to think about it.  
With stiff arms the teen pushed himself up on the bed and stretched. Through his closed curtains a few rays of sun fell into his room and onto his bed.

It had to be around midday already.

Killua frowned. He didn't usually sleep in and he hadn't done anything exhausting the other day.  
  
_No use wondering about it now,_ Killua thought and rose from his bed.

  
  
Slowly but surely his training got him back to his old body and its muscle mass and while his assassin techniques were nearly mastered again, his Nen proved to be more of a wild card than he'd initially thought.  
  
_Godspeed_ had burned his whole upper body when he'd first used it in this world and the Lichtenberg scars had only now faded to a pale white. On his already pale skin they looked like lightning itself was still dancing over his body.  
  
His Hatsu was a product of the torture he had gone through and back in his old world he'd build up a high tolerance to both poisons and electricity. To compensate that Killua had made sure there was at least one anti-toxin quirk in his possession, though as of late he still hadn't found a quirk that stopped the pain of his own electricity.  
It didn't really bother him, had never bothered him actually, but it annoyed him that his weakness from his first childhood came back around.  
  
His Nen was harder to control now that every use burned him all the way to his core.

  
  
_I'll get used to it like I did before_...

  
  
It was remarkablely harder to actually transmute his Nen into electricity.

Making a mental note to work on that Killua started getting dressed for the day. Pulling a shirt over his head he was busy with organizing the thoughts running through his head.  
He still had a lot of work to do before he would declare himself ready for the entrance exams. Kurogiri had started preparing him for the written exam and Killua knew that part of the exam wouldn't pose a problem for him. For now he planned on scoring an above average score, getting just enough right to separate himself from the middle class but still not enough to reach the excellent students. It would be an ease to manipulate the results, now that he was sure his intelligence in this world was clearly above the average mind, after all Kurogiri had told him so on multiple occasions.  
For the many years the man had accompanied him Killua came to see the man as part of their patchwork family, not quite as a father, but maybe as the cool uncle.  
Amused at his own thoughts Killua shook his head and pulled the last of his pants over his foot.

  
  
Then his eyes fell onto his nightstand.

  
  
He knew just what laid there in the drawers innocently waiting. He had picked it up on one of his missions and put it in there with the thought he might need it again.

  
  
_Use it. Your Nen is still weak. You need it,_ the voice whispered directly into his ear.  
  
And for a moment Killua actually considered it.  
  
It would hurt, of course. But that wouldn't be the worst he'd ever endured, not by a lot. And he would gain something out of it. He would be a greater asset to his father if he used it. He would be stronger.  
  
In a way it was like a charger. Currently his Nen was weak and it took him ages to form proper electricity. Maybe, someday, he wouldn't have the time to charge up. It would help him, give him a head start.  
  
With new found resolve Killua kneeled in front of the drawer and pulled it open.

  
  
Staring back at him was a sleek, black taser.

  
  
It would make turning his Nen into electricity an ease. He knew it would, but nonetheless as his hand reached out to grab it he hesitated.  
  
With training alone he could get back to his Nen mastery, he knew, but that would take a lot of time. Time he didn't have.  
  
The entrance exams were in five months.

  
  
_Do it, you know it's necessary,_ the voice said, urging him to take the taser.

  
  
The plastic felt cold in his hand and for a while he just shifted his grip around it. He didn't use tasers that often, they didn't kill with a hundred percent certainty and oftentimes his hands were faster than tasers could ever be.  
His hand rested firmly on the small device and with the other he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up until the fabric rested on his shoulder and his arm was exposed to the cool air.  
  
His index finger clicked the small button and a low hum filled the air around him. The hairs on his neck rose with the sudden static and for a brief moment Killua just stared at the electricity jumping around between the two small metallic probes.  
Then he refocused, taking a breath and straightening his back.

  
  
_What a great way to wake yourself up,_ Killua thought with a grin and pressed the crackling taser to the soft skin of his left forearm.

  
  
The pain registered immediately.  
  
He bit his teeth so hard his whole jaw clunked together. His muscles contracted, spasmed even. The currents raced through his whole body and set his nerve ends on fire.

  
  
Then the door opened and Killua cursed his luck. Of course someone had to come in right now.

  
  
"What in the world are you doing?", the person screamed, though Killua couldn't turn to look at them. But by the voice he knew Tomura had walked in on him.  
Anyone seeing him in this state would have been better than Shigaraki Tomura.  
  
Within seconds he stood in front of him, kicking the taser out of his hand that had painfully clutched it.

  
  
Killua did not know how to explain this without revealing his Nen.

  
  
For the matter of fact he didn't even need to talk as Tomura had started screaming at him again as soon as the taser slid out of reach.

  
  
"What the fuck, Arakan!"

  
Then he slapped him.  
Killua's head flew to the side.  
  
His eyes widened, never, not even once, had he thought Tomura would ever hit him outside of training.  
It felt strangely humiliating.  
  
Instantly his hand tried to come up to cradle his cheek, but the weakened muscles barely managed a twitch before his hand fell back down to his side.  
  
Immediately Tomura's gaze softened and he sank down to the ground in front of him, resting his head in the palms of his hands.  
  
"God, what am I to do with you...", he mumbled into his hands.

  
  
Then the anger came back and his head lifted from his hands.

  
  
"You could have fucking died, Arakan! Dead! You hear me? Fucking dead!", he screamed and Killua didn't react.

  
  
He could have, but in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have minded.

  
  
"What in the world possessed you to taser yourself? What did? Tell me!" Tomura's voice held true anger and Killua didn't know what to do with that.  
People got angry with him so often, but it had never been for the sake of his own well-being. And why did Tomura even care? Sure, they had lived together for quite a long time now, but what right did he have to question what Killua did to strengthen himself?

  
  
Killua didn't answer.

  
  
"Tasering yourself won't give you a buff or anything! It's a one-way ticket to crippling yourself and taking a shortcut to hell!"

  
  
The electricity still coursed through him, Killua could feel him.

  
  
_I bet I could active Godspeed right now,_ Killua thought and for testing purposes he forced a weak _Lightning Palm_ into his fist as he hid it behind his back.

  
  
"You're not listing...", Tomura realized.  
"Do you think this is funny? Do you, Arakan?" Red marks appeared on Tomura's neck as his hands furiously scratched it.  
  
Killue forced himself into reality again and somehow it felt like something pushed him back. It was incredibly hard to form words, but he had to. There was no reasonable explanation and Killua wouldn't reveal his Nen, no matter what Tomura now thought of him.  
  
"You could have talked to me instead of resorting to this. You knew you could have.", Tomura said, hoarse voice filled with something foreign Killua couldn't identify. It was neither anger nor hatred.  
  
Killua didn't know what Tomura expected him to say, should he be apologizing or staying silent until the end? It frustrated him, he didn't know what was expected of him. While apologizing seemed reasonable Killua had the feeling it would only work to infuriate Tomura further.  
  
"I know you think this is horrible, but it really isn't as bad as you might think.", Killua tried and clearly that had been the wrong thing to say as Tomura's expression darkened even further.  
  
With a scowl he stood up and looked down to him. "I'll tell Sensei you're not ready for your mission, it seems like you still have a lot to work out."

  
  
Before Killua could think about it, he had already spoken up.

"No!"

Both froze, Killua shocked at his own outburst and Tomura expecting what the other had to say.

  
"No- I mean, I am ready. It's just-" Killua didn't know what to say. He could lie, he had learned to lie at the same time he'd learned to speak properly. But somehow lying to Tomura was especially hard and there was nothing coming to his mind that would make this explainable.

  
"Father wouldn't understand. Tomura...", he hesitated. "Please don't tell him."

  
He hated everything about this.  
Why couldn't he have been slightly more foreseeing! He should have checked if anyone was coming before he had so brazenly tasered himself.  
  
Without a word Tomura sat down again.  
  
Tomura knew of the nightmares that plagued him almost every night and he knew of the panic attacks coming after. Tomura had known Arakan wasn't alright, should have known that his- what was he to him, a friend? A brother?- Tomura should have known Arakan could have been in danger of self-harming. All the signs had been there and Tomura had ignored them!  
He felt horrible and as Arakan sat there in front of him looking like sorrow incarnate his guts churned. This was his little brother and he hadn't done a single thing to care for him! The scratching at his neck intensified.

  
  
Killua stole a glance at the burn marks on his arm. They didn't hurt, but maybe the pain just hadn't registered yet. By the look of it they were supposed to hurt.  
  
Looking up Killua noticed Tomura staring at the wounds like they had personally offended him. Then their eyes met again.  
  
"Wait here. Don't move an inch!", he said and absent-minded Killua thought he didn't even have anywhere to go to even if he had wanted to.  
  
Tomura stood up to walk out, but stopped midstep to turn back around. Then he pulled off one glove and with determination Killua hadn't seen on his face before he grabbed the taser, all five fingertips touching the device.  
  
Killua watched as it crumbled to dust and didn't look up when Tomura left, instead he mourned the pile of dust sitting mockingly in front of him and wondered how he was going to strengthen his Hatsu now.

  
  
Killua's head felt like it was filled with cotton and the static in his ears made him feel like the taser was still pressed to his skin. Moving felt like he was immersed in syrup. Every movement took ten more thoughts and even then he didn't manage to properly move his arms. Before he'd realised it Tomura was kneeling in front of him and looked at him like Killua was dying and he couldn't do anything about it.

  
  
"You here with me?", Tomura asked and Killua barely managed a nod.

  
  
All of Tomura's early anger had dissipated, he didn't know why but didn't dare question it. He didn't even know if he could right now, everything felt slow.

  
  
He blinked and suddenly Tomura held some kind of ointment in his hands.  
  
"For your burns.", he explained and Killua nodded though he didn't feel his head move. Tomura stared at his face for a while. It made him uncomfortable but he didn't say anything, content with staying in his mind for some time.  
Then gentle hands and leather gloves lifted his arm and applied the cold cream to his skin. Killua could feel goosebumps spreading on his whole body and barely resisted the urge to quietly giggle at the sensation. He was sure that would have just disturbed Tomura further than he already was.  
  
And again he blinked and his forearm had been wrapped in a thick layer of bandages and Tomura sat in front of him. The first-aid kit nowhere in sight.  
  
Seeing Arakan's eyes roam around Tomura leaned forward and just pulled the younger boy into his arms. He let his head rest on the boy's shoulder and didn't take offense when the other's arms didn't lift up to embrace him too.  
_He's probably out of it,_ he mused and the bitterness of that thought left a bad aftertaste on his tongue.  
He didn't care if Arakan didn't grasp what was happening right now, but he held the boy as tightly as he could and hoped that at least his warmth would sink through to the other's mind.  
  
Tomura wondered what had led Arakan to grabbing the taser. He wouldn't ask again, but deep down he wanted to know. Maybe he knew already and maybe he didn't. Sometimes it felt like Arakan had lived twice as long as he had.  
Tomura wondered if Sensei knew about this, knew that his son had regular panic attacks, dissociated and fell back on self-harm.  
Tomura didn't know, but he knew that he couldn't really fix it. He could only be there, at his side when they cut down society.

  
  
Tomura swore he would stay at his side until the bitter end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I love Killua, but sometimes things need to break to get better.


	23. A breath of fresh air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 22 - Recap:  
> Tomura wondered what had led Arakan to grabbing the taser. He wouldn't ask again, but deep down he wanted to know. Maybe he knew already and maybe he didn't. Sometimes it felt like Arakan had lived twice as long as he had.  
> Tomura wondered if Sensei knew about this, knew that his son had regular panic attacks, dissociated and fell back on self-harm.  
> Tomura didn't know, but he knew that he couldn't really fix it. He could only be there, at his side when they cut down society.
> 
> Tomura swore he would stay at his side until the bitter end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry ㅠ.ㅠ The chapter is late... But it's long!
> 
> We're getting closer and closer to UA...

Tomura's presence felt stifling.

It was as if the other was adamant at being Killua's shadow, always looming over his shoulder to stop every action that could harm him in any way.

  
Every chance he got Killua tried to slip away, even if it meant crouching behind the bar counter trusting Kurogiri not to reveal his hiding spot.

  
He couldn't stand it.

It felt like Tomura was coddling him and it made him sick to the core. Tomura was one of the few people that had seen a part of himself that was hidden behind many, many walls. A foolish and naïve part of himself had hoped that the teen would understand. But that had been idle thinking. There was not a possible way that anyone would ever find out about his past.

And it was better like that.

He wouldn't burden them. He could handle it on his own.  
Like all the others Tomura didn't understand. But still, Killua cared for him. Even when he treated him like a child when he was actually 15-year old assassin from another world. Killua had let him treat him like that because he knew Tomura didn't know any better.  
But now it was all just so suffocating.  
They didn't understand, not a single thing and he couldn't tell them either.

  
Everything felt stifling to him lately.

  
His father didn't talk to him that often, spending most of his day with Dr. Garaki working on high-function leg prostheses. On the rare days that he did spent his time with them he only ever listened to Killua's talk of his day and never asked questions. The man would sit there, nod to show he's listening and stare at him with those blue eyes that were so alike his own but completely foreign at the same time. Killua thought spending fourteen years with the man had formed a bond of some sort.  
At first the man reminded him of Sylva, but Sylva had never been able to be gentle. Not as gentle as All for One had been.

  
Now though, as his father woke up from his coma, it was like someone had switched out his personality. If there had once been a bond between the two of them, like a string they both held on to, then Killua was the only one still clutching at it.  
He didn't know the man that had woken up and stared right into his soul.  
  
Kurogiri tried his best to console him even though Killua didn't even know the reason for his emotional distress. The man seemed to know it and always stood by his side.  
Back when they had still lived in the mansion and Killua hadn't known Tomura, Kurogiri had taught him about politics and society and heroes and everything he didn't know because this wasn't his world, not in the slightest.

Kurogiri had taught him because he was a child and he thought he didn't have that knowledge yet. And he didn't. But not because he'd been a child, but because he wasn't from this world.  
Nowadays Kurogiri would teach him advanced calculus, physics, chemistry, biology, history and economics. Not because Killua was interested in any of it, but because it was necessary for his next mission.

The subjects itself weren't hard, Killua understood them easily enough and Kurogiri was a great teacher. But it all just felt so restricting. So unbelievablely suffocating.  
  
When he wasn't training, Kurogiri taught him about scientific formulas. When his lessons were over Tomura kept him company as if it wasn't painfully obvious he watched to make sure he didn't hurt himself again. When the sun had set, Killua would go on missions, a matter of recruiting and training alike.

  
It was all just so stifling.

  
Today felt different though.  
  
For one, he hadn't woken up at the crack of dawn and he hadn't seen Tomura even as he walked down to the bar for breakfast. It was awfully suspicious.  
For the matter of fact, not even his father had called him to his room and Kurogiri only greeted him briefly before serving him his food.

He didn't really taste any of it, too lost in his thoughts to care.

Something had to be going on. Normally Tomura would eat with him even if they hadn't woken up at the same time. And while his father didn't call him that often, it was weird for him to stay completely silent for several days.  
  
His hand clenched to a fist by his side and briefly Killua considered sneaking into his father's study.

He dismissed that thought immediately.

Just because his father wasn't present right now did not mean he didn't have any surveillance quirks activated. Killua didn't want to risk it.  
  
Instead he shifted his body slightly. Too little to make it noticeable for Kurogiri and enough for him to look at the door without acting suspicious. If Tomura and All for One wanted to do things on their own, so could Killua.

  
  
For a while Killua just sat there and ate, gaze never quite leaving Kurogiri. The man was busy with wiping down the glasses on the upper shelves and if Killua timed it right he was sure he could leave the room without him noticing.

 _Godspeed_ pulsed under his skin. Thanks to the taser-incident his Nen transmuted to electricity with ease and activating it was only a matter of milliseconds.  
  
Kurogiri reached out for a tall cocktail glass, humming a tune under his breath.

His back was turned towards Killua.

  
  
His scars itched with the influx of electricity and before he could blink his body had moved.  
  
Just outside the door he stopped for a little moment.

Tilting his head back he savored the warmth of the sun on his skin.

Then he took a deep breath and started running again. He couldn't afford to spent time around the bar in case his father had noticed his escape.  
But it wasn't even an escape, really. He just wanted to go out for a walk. To escape those confines that threatened to choke him if he had stayed any longer.

  
He ran through alleyways and back passages to avoid the eye of the public. There wasn't a set destination in his mind.

  
Running always took his mind off things. The feeling of his muscles shifting to carry his weight and making him soar forward worked wonders to relax him.

This was familiar.

The ache that build up after a while, the cold droplets of sweat running down his neck. No matter what world he was in, running was always the same.  
As his feet met the ground not a single sound reached his ear.  
Then he came to an halt at the mouth of a narrow alley, barely enough space to completely stretch out his arms.

  
  
A business street stretched right in front of him and he recognized the high buildings as part of the Makuhari business district in Chiba. Pulling his hood over his head he stood there quietly and watched as the people walked down the street, chatting or typing on their phone.

Just being normal.  
  
Briefly he wondered if he would fit in if he started walking along with the flow.

  
  
Two boys walked past him, laughing and playfully shoving their shoulders against each other and for a split second Killua saw himself and Gon.  
Gon would have been great in this world. He would have been the greatest hero. Killua could imagine them meeting at UA.

Gon because he was an aspiring hero and Killua because he wanted to tear society down.  
  
He clenched his fist so hard his nails ripped scratches into his palm. The pain took his mind off those thoughts. Though the pictures had left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.  
  
Shoving his now bleeding hands into his hoodie pockets Killua stepped out onto the street. Maybe he could spend his day pretending everything was normal.

  
  
The breeze carried the smell of the ocean and the scent took him back to his time on Whale Island. For the first time Killua let himself relax as he strolled from shop to shop. It was soothing, really. Walking among civilians ignoring how many he'd killed, ignoring that he was a villain, ignoring that this wasn't even his world.

  
Today Killua just wanted to forget it all for a bit.

* * *

"Come on! I heard you liked Crimson Riot! They're selling some of the old merchandise again!", she said, ignoring the contemplating look of the other. She knew he adored the hero and wanted to be just like him in the future, but she didn't understand why he was so reluctant to actually go and show support for the hero.  
  
Sighing quietly she grabbed his wrist and started pulling him through the crowds.

  
  
"Hey wait- Ashido-" Before the boy could finish she interrupted him once more.

"I told you to call me Mina!"  
Sometimes she wondered what was going on in Ejiro's head. He wanted to be brave and courageous, standing up to bullies and defending the weak, but when it came to any sort of social interaction the boy crawled back into his shell. They weren't really friends, but Mina was insistent on changing that.  
In her opinion, all the timid boy needed was a push in the right direction.

  
"But I can't do that, that's rude...", he mumbled, almost stumbling into one of the passerbies had Mina not pulled him out of the way.  
  
"You should get one of those t-shirts.", she exclaimed loudly as if she hadn't heard his protests. "You know, the one's with his famous pose!"  
  
Kirishima didn't say anything and when Mina turned around he was quietly pulling at his black hair strands.  
 _One day_ , she thought to herself, _he will be able to stand with confidence._

  
Out of the corner of her eye she could see a flash of white. Wasn't that...?

  
Turning around she pulled Kirishima to her side and pointed at someone wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled deep into their face.  
"Isn't that Yamashita from Class 3?", she wondered, tilting her head slightly. There was no way she imagined that flash of white.  
  
At the lost look on Kirishima's face she elaborated. "You know, the guy with the straight white hair. He's in the kendo club with some of my friends."  
  
"I don't know, I've never talked to him.", Kirishima said, eyes never leaving the person as they stood in front of a book store looking at the store window.

  
  
"Great! Let me introduce you two!"

  
  
Before the boy could refuse Mina had already started pushing her way through the people towards the boy.

* * *

There was book titled _The way of Light_ on one of the shelves in the book store. Killua didn't know what it was about and he didn't particularly want to find out, but somehow he still stood there staring at the book cover as if it would answer all of his questions. Maybe it was about physics or maybe it was a hero biography. He didn't know.  
  
With one last glance Killua turned to walk away just as a firm hand settled on his shoulder.

Instantly his switch flipped, pushing him into a defensive stance.

Why hadn't he felt them coming? His brain went into overdrive trying to figure out how he hadn't noticed. Was he that distracted?  
  
His muscles clenched ready to attack whoever had just touched him. But he couldn't do that. Not here, when they stood in the middle of a busy street. He was an exceptional killer, of course, but it would be hard to kill in the middle of a crowd without notice, even for him.

  
Slowly he turned his head, ready to confront the person daring to stop him.

  
He came face-to-face with a pink-skinned girl around his age. Her hair fell in pink wild curls all over her head doing a poor job at hiding the two yellow horns protruding from her head.

Her eyes unnerved him. The sclera was pitch-black and her irises a dark yellow.  
And while her eyes were highly unusual, she somehow didn't make them look evil. Instead she grinned at him with unusual enthusiasm and started talking before she had even fully seen him.  
  
"Hey, Yamashita! Didn't expect to see you here-" The girl stopped, staring at his face as if he hadn't been the person she expected.

  
He stopped his own flinch as the girl reached out to flip his hood off his head.  
"Huh... You aren't Yamashita."

  
Before Killua could stop himself, he loudly scoffed.  
"I don't even know you.", he regarded her with a cold glare and shook her hand from his shoulder. "What do you want?" His nails had sharpened in his pockets.  
  
His guard was up.

He hadn't noticed the girl and as he looked over her shoulder, there was a boy too. It set his teeth on edge. All his missions should have heightened his senses to inhumane levels and he always had at least two sensory enhancer quirks active. He couldn't believe he had been distracted enough to not notice a bright pink girl.

  
  
"Hey!" She held her hands up in a futile attempt to appease him. "No need to get aggressive, just mistook you for someone."  
  
Killua clenched his teeth, he didn't know if she was lying or not. The ever-present grin on her face didn't seem fake and the cheer in her voice didn't seem artificial either.

  
"What middle school do you go to?", she suddenly asked, inspecting him from head to toe. "You're not attending Musutafu Private Middle School, are you? I've never seen you before."  
  
"I just told you I don't know either of you. I'm homeschooled." The girl's personality was way too bubbly for Killua to deal with without getting incredibly annoyed. He wasn't in the greatest mood to begin with.  
  
"Woah, you must be rich then!", the girl loudly exclaimed and it took all of Killua's willpower to not immediately run. And while he was indeed not in desperate need of money, attending a private middle school couldn't be done by just anyone either.  
  
"I'm Ashido Mina! And that's Kirishima Eijiro, though he's a bit shy.", the now named Mina introduced herself and the boy that stood behind her, watching him but not saying anything.  
  
He didn't come to Chiba to socialize. What in the world had he gotten himself into...

But right now he couldn't just disappear, with his luck the girl would probably scream after him if he ran away now.

  
He suppressed a sigh before retorting anything.

"My name is-" He stopped for a second, he couldn't introduce himself as Killua, not when Killua was a wanted criminal. "-Shigaraki Arakan. Really nice to meet you.", he drawled and Mina couldn't have been as stupid as to miss the obvious sarcasm.  
  
The girl grinned and her eyes sparkled with mirth, and Killua instantly knew she wasn't as naïve as she made herself appear to be.

  
"Are you busy?", she asked and Killua already opened his mouth to say he was indeed on a tight schedule. "No? Great, then you should accompany us! We're here to buy some hero merch.", she interrupted.

  
  
Killua knew he could refuse, they both knew it. She would let him go if he said he didn't have time. And Killua actually considered it. He didn't know these two, had never even seen them before and they were obviously two teens trying to be heroes. Maybe in the future they would find themselves on opposite sides.  
But Killua had gone outside to escape that reality for a while. To be someone normal, someone that could blend in, living their life without the weight of countless murders pressing on their back.  
Logically Killua knew adapting the mannerism of a teen by watching them would be beneficial for his mission.

  
  
"Sure...", he sighed. "I'll come with you for a bit."

  
Killua didn't go with them because they were benficial for his mission. He didn't even go with them because they were a threat to him.  
He went because that's what a normal teen would have done.  
Those two, Kirishima Eijiro and Ashido Mina unknowingly gave him the chance to be part of the daily life of normal teens.

  
"Great!", Mina beamed and awkwardly tugged at Kirishima's wrist to get him to say something. It was a strangely soothing sight, teens being teens. Killua could do that, even if it was just for a day.

  
  
"Nice to meet you, Shigaraki.", Kirishima said with an uncertain smile.

  
  
And then they walked, Mina between the two of them, leading both their way and their conversation. She talked about her studies and subjects, struggles she had with certain topics and her dream of being a competent hero. At that topic Kirishima opened up a bit, revealing his adoration of the hero Crimson Riot and Killua realized they were here to buy the hero's merch.

  
"- and I've been really thinking for a while. Shiketsu or Ketsubutsu would be great. But just thinking about UA gives me the chills!", Mina exclaimed excitedly.

They had been talking about their plans after middle school for a while now and all Killua had done was listen and say a little at the right parts. No matter how hard he tried to conceal it, he just wasn't meant to fit in those groups. He was going to be a hero, but before that he would let his father rebuild society.

  
  
"I think I'll take the entrance exams for UA, too. My father doesn't want to keep me homeschooled for the rest of my life.", Killua said almost absent-minded, but Mina's reaction was immediate.  
  
"That would be so cool! If we all take the entrance exams in two months, we'll see each other in class!"

  
  
Killua didn't react to the fact that Mina assumed they were all going to be accepted. Of course, he knew he was capable of attending the school and his quirk told him of the others' quirks but he didn't know how well they could fight. Though he didn't say anything, if Mina was confident he was sure it must have been for a reason.

  
  
The time Killua spent with the two was fun and for a while he actually forgot his troubles. The longer he spent with them, the more open Kirishima got. Mina talked and talked and Killua was okay with just listening.  
He didn't get attached to them, he knew he couldn't afford that.

In a strange way it felt like betrayal to Gon. His friendship was reserved for him, and only him.  
Being with Kirishima and Mina was solely for the reason of distracting him for a while. He didn't want to be friends. One day he would fight them and feelings wouldn't stand in his way.

  
  
And when Mina demanded his phone at the end of the day, he gave it to her and watched as she saved their contact information and handed it back to him.

  
  
"Let's meet up sometime again!", she said as they parted ways and Killua knew they never would.

  
  
They weren't his friends.

  
They had fulfilled their use and Killua wasn't intending on coming in contact with them again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phantom troupe fanfic will be published tomorrow. I just did the finishing touches and I hope you will enjoy it.


	24. Visible connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 23 - Recap:  
> And when Mina demanded his phone at the end of the day, he gave it to her and watched as she saved their contact information and handed it back to him.
> 
> "Let's meet up sometime again!", she said as they parted ways and Killua knew they never would.
> 
> They weren't his friends.
> 
> They had fulfilled their use and Killua wasn't intending on coming in contact with them again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone wondering: the phantom troupe fanfic has been published! Go read 'Keep the shadows' if you're interested :)
> 
> But now on to the chapter!

"He's a bright boy."

  
Tsukauchi didn't know the boy but he seemed nice, introverted but kind in a way that reminded him of the man sat in front of him.  
  
"You should have seen him.", All Might said, wide grin spreading on his lips only working to emphasize the man's hollow cheeks.  
"Just rushing in with no regard. That was the desperate power of his need to save someone!"  
The hero leaned back in his chair and the two prominent hairstrands on his head swayed with the movement.  
  
"We don't need another hero with a self-destructive streak, prioritizing victims is great but disregarding your own health in favor of others is irresponsible.", the detective retorted, gaze never leaving the hero.  
  
He knew how good of a hero All Might was. How the people looked up to him. But in the end that was what destroyed heroes the most. Even if it was unwillingly, the ever-present gaze of the public put great pressure on their shoulders.  
Personally Tsukauchi thought the public's opinion had ruined All Might in some way too.  
  
All Might laughed and the strength of it shook his whole body until blood dripped from his mouth.  
"A little sacrifice is needed to save the people, Tsukauchi!", the hero said in-between bloody coughs.  
  
The detective frowned. No matter how hard the other tried to hide it the damage done to his body was clearly visible. And even now that All Might sat before him in his skeletal form somehow the man still tried to appear strong, as if he had not given up yet.  
  
"You can't keep carrying the torch if you've already passed it on.", his voice barely louder than a whisper. Nonetheless All Might had heard him.  
  
He sat up straight, fixing his suit. Face serious, all hints of his earlier amusement gone.  
"I'm not carrying it, I'm simply easing his way into it. This torch is heavy, unbelievablely heavy, so until he is ready I will support him. Just wait. One day he will take this torch from me and carry it with a smile." His hands were clenched into tight fists and when Tsukauchi looked at his eyes pure determination stared back at him. This was the hero's decision and he would not go back on it.  
  
Sighing he shook his head.

"Then at least make sure your successor makes it to that point. Be it self-sacrifice or casualty, Midoriya should survive. No- He needs to."  
  
The world they lived in was not a friendly one. Both All Might and himself knew that. The evil of this world would not wait for the young boy to be ready. All they could do was prepare him until he could state with confidence that he was indeed the next All Might.

  
All Might grimaced.

  
"There are not many that will stand in his way of becoming the next number one." The hero sounded confident, too convinced of his own deeds.  
"I defeated All for One. He was the sole reason for One for All's history of tragic deaths. Midoriya won't need to face that monster again."  
  
Tsukauchi did not believe it was that easy, experience had taught him to always take everything with a grain of salt, to always be suspicious.  
  
"With his death the whole underworld is in a state of frenzy! They can't do anything without him! The age of heroes has come!", All Might said, screamed even as his voice progressively rose in volume.  
  
Whatever it was that had possessed All Might disgusted the detective. What had happened to the hero that he boasted the murder of a villain by his very own hand?  
In this society heroes protected rather than destroy, they saved first and foremost.  
Tsukauchi would never deny that this system had its own fair share of flaws but it had survived for years and it didn't look like any hero was keen on a fundamental change.

  
  
Flipping through his notebook he mulled over All Might's words in his head.  
Could it be possible that crime rates would further decrease with the active show of the heroes positive morale? Could All Might successfully announce his retirement and introduce Midoriya Izuku as his successor?  
His hand stopped just before flipping a page.  
His eyes moved over what he had written in the small notebook only months before.

"All Might, I do not think it will be that easy.", he mumbled, concern barely concealed as his face grew paler with every word he read.

  
  
"You chose a successor for your quirk, but who is to say that he didn't either?"  
  
All Might didn't say anything at first, only staring at the other as if he had grown a second head.  
  
"We haven't heard anything from All for One in two years, that man is dead and his legacy died along with him.", the hero said but even to his own ears he didn't sound completely convinced.

  
"But we did hear of him! Multiple times!"

  
Tsukauchi's hand was shaking, the notebook's pages fluttering with the movement.  
  
"What if-" This was a nightmare come true. If Tsukauchi's suspicions were even remotely close to the truth they had just encountered one of the biggest obstacles in their life.

  
"What if what, Tsukauchi? Speak!", All Might demanded, hands grabbing the edges of the table. The tension in the room threatened to snap.

  
  
"What if All for One fathered a child?"

  
  
Silence enveloped the room choking off any sound before either of them made an attempt to speak again. The implications of Tsukauchi's statement hung heavy in the air.

  
  
"That can't be..."

  
  
Tsukauchi flipped his notebook around, pointing the end of his pen to the writings on the page.

"There was a case of a serial killer targeting police headquarters. Setting a trap was easy enough and several heroes were send to apprehend them."

Tsukauchi loudly swallowed, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"None of them returned. Autopsies revealed their lack of a quirk."

A sharp intake of breath interrupted him.

"I took over the case after a colleague couldn't solve it. Almost all the witness testimonies speak of multiple quirks so I deduced it must have been All for One."  
  
All Might nodded lightly, he remembered the text message the detective had send him and the stressful days that had followed it.  
  
"The only thing not adding up was the serial killer's name. All for One would have not named himself _Killua._ But that was a weak argument in comparison to the usage of multiple quirks. But assuming that there is a child walking around in this country with the exact same quirk as All for One things look quite different.", Tsukauchi couldn't help the wavering of his voice at the end. The deduction was logical, most probably true even, but that didn't stop the shivers running down his spine.  
  
"I didn't inform you back then since you weren't part of the investigation of the Killua-case, but Eraserhead made direct contact with him and confirmed mutiple assumptions."

Sometimes Tsukauchi wished he could quit his job, but then he thought about all the kinds of people lurking the streets and decided sometimes it was necessary to bear with the most unsettling news no matter how much disgust or pity he felt.

  
"For one, the serial killer _Killua_ is a boy around the age of 13 to 14. He's got around shoulder length straight black hair, narrow purple eyes and high defining cheek bones. As for his build, he is not overly muscular, but lean instead and physically capable of evading Eraserhead's capture gear. Because of the short time of contact he couldn't do an accurate mental evaluation yet. Also...  
He is in possession of multiple quirks."  
  
Once again the silence threatened to drown them and only All Might's shuddering breath pulled them out of its grasp.  
  
"We need to stop him! That child is like his father!", All Might vocalized his thoughts, anger bleeding through his voice and changing his expression.

  
  
 _This boy needs saving more than any other,_ Aizawa's voice rang in his head.  
  
  
"We-", he stopped, All Might looked furious.

"We shouldn't act hastily. He's just a child, we don't know how much of his actions were by his own volition. A child wouldn't just wake up and decide to break into police quarters to murder every single officer stationed there!"

  
But All Might couldn't be stopped now, not when he had just learned of the existence of his archenemy's child.  
"Don't be fooled, Tsukauchi. A child of that man can't be good, I know it can't."  
  
The detective bit down every remark he had. Wasn't it the hero's job to give everyone the same chance at living a good life? Where was the right in judging a child by their father's deeds? Shouldn't they save everyone no matter what situation they were in?  
Tsukauchi thought it was unjust but didn't say anything.

  
  
All Might didn't even acknowledge him anymore, too caught up in his own deductions to see reason.  
"I can't remember it cleary...", the hero whispered, foreign feelings making his voice hoarse. "But All for One didn't tear out my stomach. Someone else did. It should have been impossible for All for One to do it! I crushed his legs and I was out of his reach!", his voice grew once again and wild eyes turned to the detective.  
  
"Tsukauchi... It was only for second, barely that... but I saw it. A flesh of something, someone. Their statue was small, not even reaching my hip. Tsukauchi... it must have been that child. His child!", he screamed, eyes wide open darting around as if they were lurking in the shadows.  
  
"I can't believe it...", he whispered, hand coming up to cover his face. "That monster sired a child... A child with All for One. Likely even a stronger version of All for One. Killua... Killua..."  
  
Tsukauchi bit down onto the inside of his cheek. Had it been a mistake to reveal his suspicions to the hero?  
  
All Might was deep in thought. Mind flashing back to his battle with All for One. He saw the man before him blood splattering from his wounds. And then he felt something impaling his abdomen, too sharp to be a hand but not solid enough to be a weapon. Whatever it had been, it was small yet it had torn his stomach apart as if it was simply a sheet of paper.

Now that he concentrated he saw a figure, so small that his mind hadn't put any focus on it. The figure of Killua.  
  


But something was amiss.

Deep down something nagged at his senses. It was Killua. He was one hundred percent certain it was Killua. But why didn't his mind agree with that?

  
The silhouette was too fast for him to see both his eyes or his cheekbones, but All Might did see one thing and now that he thought it he realized one important detail.

  
  
Did the figure have black hair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The question of all questions!  
> How good is All Might's memory?


	25. And if he's left behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 24 - Recap:  
> Deep down something nagged at his senses. It was Killua. He was one hundred percent certain it was Killua. But why didn't his mind agree with that?
> 
> The silhouette was too fast for him to see both his eyes or his cheekbones, but All Might did see one thing and now that he thought it he realized one important detail.
> 
> Did the figure have black hair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually a lot of fun to write! It's a bit intense again, but don't worry!  
> The next chapter will be the first part of the entrance exam ;)
> 
> T/W for this chapter: vomiting, slight panic attack

Killua didn't quite know what to make of his new mission. 

  
School.

  
He had never attended one, had never known the atmosphere in a classroom, had never hurriedly scribbled the last bits of homework before the teacher came into the room, had never met other people his age, had never tried to cheat in an exam, because he had never even written one.  
The closest he had come to a school was the short time Wing and Biscuit taught them Nen.  
  
School was such a foreign concept that even though he had been preparing for the entrance exams for so many months now he still couldn't picture himself sitting in a classroom.  
He didn't know what teachers usually did. Maybe they were as strict as his parents had been, maybe they would joke around and lecture them like Biscuit had.  
  
He was going to be a UA student.

A hero student.

Every person he would be meeting there would be blind to the oppression, only willing to see the light of their heroes.

In the end Killua needed to be just like them, pretend to only see the bright side. The heroes saving the people in need even though the heroes were the ones causing the need.  
  
Maybe his classmates were going to ask him who his favorite hero was. Killua didn't know what he would answer. Heroes were supposed to be like the light, but the only real light he had ever seen was Gon. And Gon was not a hero, not even part of this world.  
His best friend had shone so brightly that sometimes Killua had to look away. Killua was made of shadows and sometimes, just sometimes, Gon's light had hurt him, had made him realise that he could never be light, no matter how hard he tried.  
No one ever looked at Killua and saw light.  
Instead they saw the darkness in his eyes and the depth of his shadow.  
  
If his classmates were going to ask about his favorite hero Killua would quietly think _Gon_ to himself and sprout senseless lies from his lips.  
In UA lies would be a set part of his life.

His teachers would be heroes, his classmates would be hero-hopefuls and Killua was a villain.  
And he would lie and lie until he felt like his mouth was rotten and he'd start believing his own lies.  
And if he started believing he was indeed a hero, on the side of a fake society, then Killua would feel the pulse of his quirk and remember his father, _All for One._

  
  
On some days Killua couldn't lift himself out of bed. The blankets were too heavy and his limbs too stiff and his mind wasn't his own and this world wasn't his own. On some days standing up from bed just had no use. What use was a life in a world that wasn't his?  
He had spent so much time in this world that sometimes he desperately clung to the memories of his old self. There were things he couldn't forget. They were the only thing keeping him from crumbling down.  
Killua didn't know what he would do if their faces faded from his memories.  
So on some days Killua didn't move from bed, recalling his life in another world, from the day he had first opened his eyes to his meeting with light and finally to his end. He remembered his feelings, the appreciation for the light that shone so bright and the things they experienced and the freedom and the unconditional acceptance of his whole being.  
  
Killua feared his time at UA would make him forget himself. He didn't know himself in the first place. What was he? Who was it that stared back at him when he looked into the mirror?

The person looked familiar.

White hair almost falling in curls around his head, blue eyes more akin to ice than a window to the soul, pale skin as if a sculptor had tried to shape a person out of snow and hands that were clean but dripped with blood if he looked close enough. Was he an assassin? A villain? A friend? A student? A hero?

  
He didn't know anymore.

  
What did he want in this world? Why had Nanika even sent him here?  
He remembered her black eyes shaped like the void and remembered her voice wishing for him to be part of a loving family.  
  
Shigaraki Tomura was loving in some way. He didn't tell him he cared, more often insulting him rather than showing affection. But he was there whenever Killua needed him.  
Killua knew both of them were not the person for care, affection or love even. They each had a fair share of problems. Killua saw the red scratch marks on his neck, sometimes deep enough to send blood running down over his collarbone. Killua saw the hands Tomura carried with him and knew the other couldn't do without them.  
And in no way was it right. They were both too crooked and warped for society and too broken to stand on their own so instead they somehow leaned on each other to keep them both from falling over.  
  
Killua knew sooner rather than later supporting each other wouldn't be enough. One of them would crumble. It was inevitable. A part of him, buried deep down beneath all his feelings, knew he would be the one to crumble. Homesickness for a home he could never reach again, missing the company of people he could never see again, fearing the touch of people that could never reach him again.  
Killua knew someday he would crumble.  
  
But for now he just wanted to embrace the family he had found in Tomura, an older brother that cared too much and felt too little.  
  
Kurogiri didn't love. The man could never love how Killua had seen others love. Their relationship was that of acceptance and care. No matter how bloodied Killua came to him Kurogiri would take care of him everytime.  
The man had sworn complete and utter loyalty towards All for One but Killua would like to believe that his care for him came from personal feelings rather than obligation to care for his master's son.  
Kurogiri didn't understand as much as Tomura did. Had never seen him shaking from old memories, crying for something he could never have.  
But Kurogiri was there nonetheless. Even when he fell back on old habits time and time again and the only thing he could do to cope was kill again and again. Kurogiri was always there and while Killua couldn't say he loved him (love was something that had long since left him) he deeply cared for the man.

  
And his father, All for One.  
Their relationship was complicated.  
Shigaraki Arakan had always been at his father's side and probably knew the man the best. Yet he did not know his real name.  
It had always been _All for One_ or _dad_ or _father_ , but never once had Killua called him by his name. He knew they must share a surname but _Shigaraki_ somehow didn't fit the imposing figure of a man. His father was beyond normal humans, what applied to them never reigned him in. A name was something binding you down and for all he knew, his father had million names and none of them his real one.  
Yet Killua still claimed to know him the best. Even though he couldn't read what the man thought, couldn't tell his opinion on things and couldn't predict the man's next action.  
Killua didn't know if his father loved him or only saw him as an asset.

Either way he didn't mind. 

He had never really known love and unfamiliarity send cold shivers down his spine. What use was there in discovering something unknown when he could just keep with the usual familiar things.

He knew how to be an asset, he knew how to follow orders, how to satisfy the wishes of a man that saw humans as chess figures and his son simply as one of the more special pieces.  
And still there was a part of him that wanted acknowledgement and affection and care and the love of a father.

  
Deep down he knew he would discard the care of Tomura and Kurogiri in a heartbeat if it meant his father would finally start looking at him.

Really looking at him. 

Seeing him as the person he was and not an asset. Loving him like Killua had seen the parents in movies do.  
Killua would slaughter a whole city just for All for One to look at him with eyes like Mito had when she looked at Gon.  
The rational part of his brain shoved those thoughts down so violently they wouldn't come up for a while again. And whenever they did Killua wondered if Nanika knew what she was doing when she sent him off.  
  
Killua didn't think All for One loved him and he didn't know if he loved All for One.  
  


  
Sighing Killua ran a hand down his face and stretched out his arms until his hands hung off the bed. As usual his body was oddly cold even though his quirk pulsed with warmth. It warmed him from the inside but it never quite breached the outside.

Today was one of those odd days.

  
  
His body felt heavy and there was a steady beat behind his eyes.  
He let out a groan and his voice sounded hoarse. Maybe he had screamed while sleeping, though usually Tomura would have woken him up if that had happened.  
Killua didn't remember waking up in the middle of the night so either he didn't have a nightmare or Tomura simply didn't bother with calming him down anymore.  
  
_He stopped caring,_ the traitorous voice in the back of his head spoke up.  
  
He rolled slightly over and pressed his face into the pillow. He wanted to scream. But he didn't. Instead he thought of Gon and Alluka and Kurapika and Leorio and Zushi and Biskuit and all the other people he had left behind. Behind his eyelids his eyes grew damp.  
  
When his lungs started contracting and burning with the need for air, he pressed down into the fabric even harder. And only when his ears started buzzing and his head felt light, only then did he lift his face out of the pillow.  
Killua wondered what Gon was doing right now and then, with a startle he realised that Gon would be almost thirty years old right now.

The thought made his stomach lurch.  
  
Why hadn't Killua aged? He didn't feel like a thirty-year old, he barely even felt fifteen. 

  
_He probably thinks you abandoned him,_ the voice snickered. _And now he's living his life in peace. I bet he already forgot you even existed. Or maybe he's dead already!_  
  
His vision swam with unshed tears and suddenly bile rose in his throat. What if Gon hated him? Resented him for abandoning him?  
Fifteen years and Killua had never thought about how his disappearance could have affect Gon. Somehow the thought that his bestfriend hated him sent violent nausea through his body.

And hadn't he abandoned Gon?

Hadn't he run from Illumi without telling Gon anything? 

He didn't notice but his hands were shaking and his breath ran laboured. His body couldn't decide between gasping for air and retching.  
  
Desperately scrambling from his bed he stumbled his way to the bathroom. The sudden upright position send colorful dots dancing in front of his eyes and his feet felt cold on the bathroom tiles.  
  
His hands barely found the edge of the toilet before he emptied his stomach's content into the bowl.  
He couldn't breathe, whenever his retching paused he was busy gulping for air through his sobs.  
  
Pressing a hand to his mouth he forced himself to quieten down. He couldn't afford to have Tomura walking in on him.  
  
The sobs shook his whole body and before he knew he was leaning on the toilet seat again, gagging on the taste on his tongue.

  
As the years passed it got harder and harder to remember Gon's face and Killua didn't know what he would do when he finally _forgot_. He was his lifeline, he couldn't just disappear.  
  
What if Gon was already dead? What would he do? Gon wasn't even in this world! There was nothing Killua could do, he couldn't protect him, couldn't see him, couldn't explain his disappearance, couldn't comfort him, couldn't clean up the messes he left behind.

Killua couldn't do anything!  
Why was he always so weak! Everytime someone needed him he was too weak to be of any help!  
  
He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself in a futile way to comfort himself. Rocking back and forth Killua couldn't help but picture it. Gon's lifeless body on the ground or Gon staring at him with accusing eyes, screaming at him for abandoning him or even Gon's face scrunching up in confusion when he didn't recognize him. 

  
Today was one of those odd days. Killua couldn't control it.

  
  
And he sat there in the bathroom crying and wishing for Gon for quite a long time.

  
  
His limbs felt stiff and unforgiving when he finally rose from the cold tiles.

  
Any and all emotions had left his face.  
He couldn't afford it anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update on 'Keep the shadows' will be this Friday!


	26. In the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 25 - Recap:  
> And he sat there in the bathroom crying and wishing for Gon for quite a long time.
> 
> His limbs felt stiff and unforgiving when he finally rose from the cold tiles.
> 
> Any and all emotions had left his face.  
> He couldn't afford it anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split the actual chapter into two, otherwise it would have been a bit too long, so sadly you'll have to wait for the next chapter for the entrance exams to start :(
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless as it stands at more than 3K words!

Was it the nervousness setting him on edge?

His body itched to move forward facing whatever it was that spiked his nerves. It had been a pretty long time since he had gone on a mission.

A real mission.

Not the recruitment he did or rather tried to do. He doubted there would be a lot of killing at school. Not with UA at least. Not with a building filled to the brim with heroes.  
  
With a breath he brought himself back to reality. His reflection in the mirror looked ready for the entrance exam. Killua didn't know if he felt as ready as he looked.  
Instead of a middle school uniform he wore a white shirt with a dark turtleneck underneath it and loosely falling pants. He didn't have a school uniform and as he looked at himself once more he could almost imagine himself back in his old world. At least a little bit of familiarity would follow him into the dark unknown he would set foot into today.  
And in quite a few ways it was exciting too. For the first time in his life he would actually attend a school.  
Briefly he wondered who his homeroomteacher would be as it was no secret that none other than proheroes were teaching at UA.

  
  
Straightening the last few wrinkles in his shirt that he knew would return as soon as he moved once more, he turned away from the mirror to grab the bag slung across the back of a chair.  
There wasn't much inside, a small leather case with enough pencils to get him through multiple exams, a bottle of water -he didn't want to bring one but Kurogiri had stared at him long enough that Killua would have felt bad if he refused both the bottle and the good-luck-charm the man had made him- then there was a rubber ball, small enough to fit in his hand and flexible enough to withstand his full strength. Kurogiri had also been the one to give him the small toy with the words "in case you feel particularly stressed" and to be honest he used it way more often than he initially thought he would. 

And deep within the bag, hidden behind pockets and zippers was a pocket knife wrapped in aluminum foil in case UA had metal detectors. When Tomura had seen him wrap the knife up until it looked more like a burrito than a weapon he had laughed and said that when a moment arose where he needed the knife he wouldn't be fast enough to get it.

Killua doubted that, but the knife was more for the comfort of not being completely weaponless. He didn't have his yo-yos with him and while his nails were indeed very handy sometimes he couldn't rely on them everytime someone attacked him. Technically his quirks counted as a weapon too but Killua had lived fifteen years in a world where quirks had not been a thing and still up to this day it felt unnatural to him to rely too heavily onto something as irregular as quirks.  
So instead he kept a knife in his bag and a cord of piano strings wrapped around his waist.

  
  
Throwing the bag over his shoulder he couldn't resist the need to look into the mirror one final time.

This was it.

Today he took his first step towards being a hero, not a hero of this society, but a hero for his father, for the new society. For Gon's sake ( _"And dad's sake",_ a voice in the back of his head added) he would become the best hero there ever was. He would shine so brightly that no one would see the darkness lurking in his shadow.

It was all a matter of how well he could fake it.

  
  
His footsteps were quiet as he walked down the hall.

Tomura always called him out on it whenever he walked into a room the other was already in. His brother was certain he used a quirk to silence his feet and yet even as All for One had confirmed that it was in fact not a quirk Tomura kept insisting that it was and that Killua used skills from video games.

Conversations like that were always fun. They were light and not filled with blood and violence and when Kurogiri and his father silently observed the bickering, adding a comment once or twice Killua felt like home.

  
  
He was nervous and he couldn't help it. There was no doubt in any of them that he would ace the entrance exam so Killua couldn't really explain where the nervousness came from.

Some part of him dreaded the contact with other people his age and another wanted go dive right into social interactions. Though Killua had to admit the dread took over a larger portion of his thoughts. He didn't really know how to interact with others, he couldn't act like he did with his family here and he couldn't- no, rather wouldn't _ever_ \- treat them like Gon. Gon and only Gon was allowed to see the deepest side of him. No one else held the key to the darkness that seemed like it infected him from the inside out.

The only interaction he had with others in this world had been his brief meeting with Mina and Kirishima. And while that hadn't gone as bad as it could have, Killua couldn't really form an opinion on those two. He still didn't understand how they could have snuck up on him and it raised his guard even if he didn't mean to.

Maybe some part of him had noticed them but simply didn't classify them as a threat to notify him of.

He didn't know.  
He was more interested in whether or not he would see the two of them at the entrance exam. After all Mina had said they would at least try.  
Did he look forward to seeing them again? He couldn't really tell. Did he care? Did he not? Suddenly he was hyperaware of the weight of his phone in his pocket. Mina had given him her number, hadn't she? In all honesty he had completely forgotten about it and even if he hadn't he would not have called her.

  
  
Shaking his head to get rid of all the unnecessary thoughts streaming through his mind, he walked down the stairs into the bar. It was morning on a weekday so obviously the bar was closed, nonetheless he could spot Kurogiri behind the counter reading what looked to be a cooking book. Unknowingly a grin had spread on his face and Killua stopped halfway down the stairs to snap a picture of the completely engrossed villain to use as blackmail in the future.

Then he fully stepped down into the room, making his last few steps purposefully loud to alert the man of his presence.

Instantly Kurogiri's head snapped up and the purple shadows of his face flickered in a way that Killua had learned was a smile.  
"Good morning, Arakan. I hope you had a great night's rest."  
  
Killua had woken up in cold sweat though he couldn't remember what he had dreamt so he counted that as a good rest.  
  
"I'm sure you're thoroughly prepared for your exams today.", Kurogiri added, closing the book in his hand though not without adding the bright pink bookmark Tomura and Killua had gotten him as a joke. Then he placed it on the counter and Killua could read the title to learn it was a book specifically about traditional European cuisine. It was always interesting to see what Kurogiri wanted to learn about each week and more often than not Tomura would convince Killua to bet on what kind of book Kurogiri would read the following week. For this week Tomura had guessed on pre-quirk era sports and Killua had bet on some kind of cooking book.  
  
Grinning Killua sat down on one of the bar stools, reaching out to leaf through the book.  
  
Meanwhile Kurogiri stood up and walked into the adjoined kitchen, coming back shortly with a tray. And even before he could see what was on it Killua smelled the food.  
  
"Great! Thanks, Kurogiri. It's almost like you can read my mind.", he exclaimed as his eyes took in the traditional Japanese breakfast.  
  
Kurogiri chuckled and his body flickered slightly.  
"It is simply that I have gotten used to your tastes and on some days it is fairly easy to see what you desire."  
Normally Killua would be concerned someone could read him with such ease, but he had gotten used to his father reading him like a open book and this was just Kurogiri, he was part of the family.

In fact it was quite the opposite actually, he was glad the man understood him with just a few words, sometimes he simply couldn't really express his thoughts and emotions well. Still too used to no one caring, to always bottling everything up inside and dealing with it alone.  
  
Digging into his rice he listened with one ear as Kurogiri told him of things he had read in the newspaper or had heard from the radio. This was a morning like he was used to and he could almost count down in his head when Tomura would come down from his room.  
Today though it took the other a bit longer and Killua had already finished his fish and drank the last bits of miso soup when Tomura's footsteps reached his ears.  
Kurogiri had switched to talking about a new chess technique he had learned and Killua couldn't be more glad for Tomura's interruption. He loved it when Kurogiri just talked, it meant he didn't have to think about what was expected of him to say. Of course he knew no one here cared if what he said wasn't sociablely acceptable as they had known him for years yet a part of him still didn't dare to act like he truly wanted to. But right now, all he wanted was Kurogiri to stop talking about chess.  
  
Stumbling down into the room Tomura's first greeting was a yawn that almost compelled Killua to mirror the movement.  
"God, I swear I just looked at the clock and it was only past eleven and then I blink one time and it's four in the morning.", he complained, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and sitting down next to Killua though not without almost falling out of the stool. Killua knew Tomura had been playing games again, after all he had heard the teen's loud swearing as he insulted the other online players with the vocabulary of a sailor.  
  
Kurogiri disappeared into the kitchen and came back within seconds to place down Tomura's food in front of him.  
  
Still too tired to function properly Tomura barely hummed in gratitude and broke his chopsticks apart to start eating.  
  
"Is dad coming down or is he already with Dr. Garaki?", Killua asked Kurogiri, carefully stacking his empty dishes.  
  
Kurogiri paused for a moment as if he was thinking of what to answer. "He already came down to eat quite a while ago, though he did say he would come see you before your exams."  
  
Killua almost sighed in relief.  
  
The first ten month after All for One had woken up from his coma, he had been distant at best and a stranger at worst.  
However as soon as Dr. Garaki had finished the first set of improved leg prostheses he had slowly changed until Killua recognized his father again. The man that had shown him fatherly care. Though now that All for One's hate for All Might and One for All had reached its peak the man spent more and more time with the doctor in their labs working on "a masterpiece, Arakan, they will be a gift for you and Tomura. I know you understand, for something to turn out great, patience and time is needed. "  
On some days they would eat together and his father would train him and on others he didn't see his father at all.

But Killua knew his father loved him. All for One praised him, acknowledged him again.

It felt like love to Killua.

  
  
Next to him Tomura loudly slurped up the last drops of his miso soup and loudly placed the bowl onto the counter.  
"You're obnoxious, Tomura. Please mind your manners.", Kurogiri instantly reprimanded and Killua saw the teen rolling his eyes as an answer.  
"If you do decide to slurp, please do so in moderation." Killua barely held in his laughter.

  
  
Then his quirk notified him of his father's arrival. Instantly he straightened his back and perked up, trying to figure out where the man was coming from this time.

  
  
Tomura had learned that whenever Arakan stopped mid-sentence in a conversation or sat up like meerkat it meant All for One was coming. How the boy noticed his presence even before Sensei had entered the room Tomura didn't know, but he figured it must have something to do with the quirk the father-son duo shared.

  
  
Killua really did try to see where his senses told him his father would step out but the thing about his father's presence was that it simply consisted of so many different kind of quirks that there might as well have been a thousand people in the room and Killua had to take a guess.  
Though today the portal opened right next to the door and briefly Killua wondered if his father did that intentionally.  
  
" _He doesn't ever do anything without a purpose."_ , the voice chided and Killua had to agree with it, his father was just a complicated person.  
  
Seeing the portal open was always fascinating to Killua.

It started as a small dark dot on the wall that one might mistake as a simple spot of dirt. However after a few seconds one would notice that the dot was in fact swirling and then the portal would expand all the while swirling like a black hole. And it definitely looked like one. The dark color of the quirk and the constant movement made it look like the surface the portal formed on was simply swallowed by complete darkness.

  
  
And then his father stepped out.

  
  
At first glance All for One didn't look like a man that had been in a two-year long coma not too long ago. He also didn't looked like someone that had lost the better part of his lower half.  
As always his father wore a suit though instead of the usual black this time it was more of a navy color. And if Killua hadn't seen them first-hand then he wouldn't even have suspected the man's legs to be completely artificial. They moved as if they were his own and the hem of the pants fell too low for anyone to catch a glimpse of the metallic shine of the prostheses.  
Though Killua was sure only Dr. Garaki, All for One and he himself knew: the prostheses were a perfect replica of his father's legs however neither could they support any of his leg-based quirks nor would he be able to fight with them for a long time.  
But right now Killua didn't want to think of anything negative, he was simply happy that his father was alright again and looked at him with caring eyes.

  
  
"Good morning.", the man exclaimed as the portal closed behind him and not a single clue was left behind that it had ever formed in the first place.  
From all occupants of the room some form of greeting returned. ("What a pleasant morning we are having indeed." "Good morning, Sensei!" "Hey there, dad.")  
  
All for One's lips twitched, his way of smiling. Then he walked across the room and within a few steps he towered over the still seated Killua briefly ruffling his hair, sending Tomura a nod and then taking a seat on Killua's free side.  
  
"I learned how to pinpoint my quirk's sensory to a single person.", Killua exclaimed without meaning to. Though usually their conversation would be a mix of Killua's achievements, All for One praising him and Killua asking for news from the lab and receiving detailed stories.  
"It was more of a trail-and-error kinda thing.", Tomura whisper-mocked next to him and Killua barely resisted the urge to slam his elbow into the teen's side. Tomura had been talking really quietly but he just knew that All for One had heard him and with the amused glint now in his eyes that thought only confirmed itself.  
  
"You did great nonetheless.", his father said, the small praise spreading a grin onto Killua's face. Then All for One turned to Tomura. "Tomura, you should take Arakan's diligence as an example." Of course they had heard the joke in his voice, yet Tomura still pretended to be insulted, burrowing one hand into his hoodie pocket and threatening to decay the counter with the other. 

"Yeah right, _diligence_ , Sensei, I'm sure Arakan will be really diligent with his next mission. Especially since-", he paused and took a look at the watch around his wrist -a gift from Sensei- "-he will be late to it if he doesn't leave right now."  
  
Instantly Killua's head snapped up, grabbing Tomura's wrist and turning it until he could read the time. In his hurry to stand up his stool tilted over and only All for One's hand reaching out to catch it stopped it from crashing to the ground.

  
  
"Why didn't anyone tell me the time? Kurogiri!", Killua yelled accusingly, in a hurry to get his shoes on.  
  
"I was not aware that I had the task to inform you of the time. I assumed you to be as organized.", Kurogiri said and outsiders might just think the man was serious, but Killua wasn't an outsider.

"This isn't the time for jokes!", Killua growled out, tying the laces of his left shoe while simultaneously trying to pull over his jacket.

  
  
"All is well, Arakan. You will make it on time.", All for One spoke up, his calm voice cutting through the panic that had filled the room.

"Though I do hope you won't be making anymore of these panic-inducing jokes of Arakan, Tomura and you as well Kurogiri.", All for One lightly chided with the shake of his head and Tomura simply shrugged.

"I deeply apologize.", Kurogiri said, though if you asked Killua the man didn't sound apologetic at all.

  
  
"Has anyone seen my skateboard? I could have sworn I left it at the door." Instead of answering Tomura watched with growing amusement as the boy ran around the room like a headless chicken. It was always fun to see the usually so composed Arakan break character, even if only for a short time and right now it almost seemed like the boy had forgotten his father was also present. Otherwise, Tomura was sure, he would try to keep at least some part of his dignity.

  
  
With the sweep of a hand All for One located the skateboard seeing the outline of it behind wood.

  
  
"Kurogiri, it is behind the counter, give it to Arakan, will you?", All for One said tapping the counter lightly with the index finger of his right hand.  
  
"Right away." And as the cloud bend down to grab it, Killua had raced to the counter leaning onto it to see if he could spot it. The skateboard had been a gift from his father since he had once mentioned how much he would love to skate. And while it sadly didn't share the same colors of his old skateboard, it was at least the same pattern and seeing the arrow pointing straight forward always made him somewhat nostalgic. It reminded him of great times and this was exactly what he needed on this day that threatened to saw right through his nerves.  
  
Even before Kurogiri had fully straightened up once more, Killua practically ripped the skateboard out of his hands, in his mind he apologized for that, but right now he was on a timer and the nervous energy reached a new high.  
  


  
  
"Arakan."

  
  
  
Instantly he stopped at the doorway.

  
  
  
"You know what I expect of you."

  
  
Killua swallowed, grip shifting on the skateboard.

"Of course, father." 

After a bit of thought he added "I won't disappoint you." and pushed the door close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see Killua's life is not always sad and he found himself a cute patchwork family :) kind of....


	27. Because it was you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 26 - Recap:  
> "Arakan."
> 
> Instantly he stopped at the doorway.
> 
> "You know what I expect of you."
> 
> Killua swallowed, grip shifting on the skateboard.
> 
> "Of course, father."
> 
> After a bit of thought he added "I won't disappoint you." and pushed the door close behind him.

Within a few steps Killua gathered enough momentum to jump onto his skateboard and start his journey.   
  
He was still excited, though his father's parting words had definitely stopped some of the childish wonders that had threatened to get to the surface.

Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, trusting his sensory quirks to guide him.  
  
And then, for just a moment he bathed in the sensation of the wind hitting his face, blowing through his hair, rustling his clothes.  
It made him nostalgic.  
  
The sound of his skateboard's wheels on the pavement was something familiar. And as he pushed forward, gathering speed with every move of his foot, a grin split his face.

  
He had missed this.

  
Then the noise of the city cut through his thoughts.

Right, this wasn't his old world.

This was something entirely different and Killua had come to accept it even though on some days he didn't feel at home within his own skin.   
  
With a sigh he opened his eyes again, taking note of the change of scenery.   
  
The bar was in a rundown part of Kamino ward. The houses looked like they had lived through three wars and the roads were littered with potholes though Killua had learned to skate around those.   
  
What he saw now instead were neat rows of high-build apartments reaching up into the sky. Instead of dodging potholes Killua now dodged people as they hurried down the street, weaving around each other as if the whole street and the crowd that filled it, followed specific rules.  
If they did, Killua didn't know those rules.   
  
There were so many quirks all around him, the heat burning him even though none of the threads touched him. Unknowingly he dodged just a bit further as he passed two young men as if their threads would touch him if he came too close.

His senses were on fire.

The city was loud, people were talking and without meaning to Killua picked up their conversations, though just as he realised he was listening in on private conversations, a traffic light turned green and the sound of cars took over his attention.   
  
The next time he passed someone he almost bumped into the person and with a hurried apology thrown over his shoulder, Killua deactivated quite a few of his sensory quirks.   
He couldn't afford an overload right now.  
  
Letting his eyes wander around Killua spotted quite a few students wearing all kinds of uniforms. Some were walking in groups and others were by themselves, earphones on, feet tapping a rythm only known to them.   
  
Killua couldn't help but let his quirk graze over each and every one of them, getting a quick feel of their quirk. He had always felt the need of constant information, there was so much in this world that he didn't know but if he was confronted with something he could technically know given the right circumstances Killua couldn't help but do anything possible to achieve that knowledge.   
Grinning he skated in curves around the students. They were all heading the same way.

And Killua could already see it.  
  
There, at the end of the street, it towered over any other buildings of the city. Its glass tower reflected the morning sun, blinding anyone daring to look up with their light as if they wanted to prove that only the brightest stars could attend.

U.A. High school.

Killua's grin widened.  
  
With a final push he closed the distance between himself and UA's walls.   
  
The world around him was buzzing. There were so many quirks here and something deep inside him itched to just _pull._

  
  
Killua took a shuddering breath to snap out of it.   
He couldn't do this, not here.

  
  
 _You know you could do it,_ the voice whispered and Killua forced himself to focus on his Nen instead of his quirk that pulsed along with his heartbeat.

  
  
To distract himself he forced himself to acknowledge the people around him.   
A girl just walked onto the school grounds and he immediately noticed her vine-like hair. It seemed to grow out of her scalp, replacing regular hair and Killua knew he wouldn't be able to steal it.  
In his peripheral vision a teen with darkblue hair combed straight and rectangular glasses sitting high on his nose fixed his tie. It took a few seconds but Killua spotted the way his pants bulged over his calves as if something protruded from his legs there. Another mutation quirk he wouldn't be able steal even if he tried.   
Somehow knowing that there were people safe from his quirks calmed Killua down. It was strange, really, especially if he thought about how willingly he would steal all the quirks around him had they been in a different place at a different time.  
Yet right now he needed the immutable feel of mutant quirks to calm the raging heats of his very own quirk.  
  
And just as he turned to look away the blue-haired boy met his eyes.  
For a few seconds Killua just stared as the other looked him up and down and then made his way through the crowd towards him.  
  
Frowning Killua stopped the movement of his skateboard. Did he know that boy? Why was he even approaching him?  
  
His quirk felt metallic, more like an engine rather than the flame others carried. As the boy came closer Killua tried to figure out the details of his quirk. It was most definitely located in his legs and the bulge in his calves poorly hid the fact that something had to be growing out of his legs. Killua guessed it would be some kind of engine.  
  
"Hello there!", the boy greeted coming to a sudden halt right in front of him.  
  
Instead of answering Killua merely raised an eyebrow, burying his hands even deeper into his pockets.  
  
"I must ask you to step off your skateboard. It is very unbecoming of a student to disregard the rules of U.A. high school so blatantly.", he continued slightly disgruntled by his lack of response.   
  
Killua stiffled an annoyed sigh.   
  
"Is there a rule against skateboarding?", he retorted in a monotone voice, still not stepping off his skateboard.  
  
With a chopping gesture of his hands the boy started what seemed to be a lecture.  
  
"Of course there is! As someone wishing to attend this prestigious school I would have expected everyone to read the rule booklet!" He continued pulling out a book and if the boy considered _that_ to be just a booklet then Killua really didn't want to know what kinds of books the other read.  
  
This time he didn't even try to silence his sigh. If he wanted to avoid further conflict he should just comply with whatever the boy wanted from him.  
  
Shifting his weight slightly to the left, Killua leapt off the skateboard. The move gave the skateboard enough momentum to shoot upwards. Then Cat-like reflexes caused his hand to shoot out and catch the board, twirling it in the air. And with practiced ease he reversed the trick and shifted the board to rest between his arm and upper body.   
  
Meanwhile a small crowd of students had gathered around them watching him get lectured for something as unnecessary as violating the school rules.  
  
Tightening his grip on his skateboard Killua turned back to the blue-haired boy.  
"I don't even know who you are and yet you talk to me like we know each other.", he scoffed. "Don't you think you're being the rude one here?"  
  
When the boy didn't respond within a few seconds Killua turned to walk away. He didn't want to gain attention right now, not before he took the entrance exams.   
  
"My name is Tenya Iida! It was very rude of me to not introduce myself right away.", forcefully placing himself in front of him to stop Killua from leaving the conversation.  
  
 _Push him away,_ the voice chided and for once Killua actually considered it, but the boy was rather uptight and he was sure the use of force would somehow get back to him.  
  
"However not only have you violated the rules by bringing your skateboard with you but also because you are not wearing the uniform of your middleschool as everyone taking the entrance exams is supposed to do."  
  
Killua was close to snapping right now. His good mood from before had completely dissipated. His senses were overwhelmed despite him turning off most of his sensory quirks and the students all around them did nothing to calm the itch to just _pull._  
Taking a deep breath he forced himself to be rational, he knew he could do it.   
Back in his old world he had learned how to act and right now he needed to pull off this play perfectly.   
  
Though before he could respond to the boy's accusation someone else interrupted the conversation.  
  
"Well actually he was homeschooled, so I doubt he even has a uniform.", a familiar voice spoke up behind him.  
Since he was surrounded by so many different kinds of quirks he hadn't noticed the approach of this particular one.  
And he hadn't know he would ever be so happy to see this person, but when he turned around to acknowledge their help a tiny smile pulled his lips up.  
  
"Mina.", he said and watched as the face of the pink-skinned girl lit up when she realized he'd remembered her name.  
  
Iida blinked perplexed at the new arrival.   
"It is very rude to intrude on the conversation of other people.", he said doing another weird chopping gesture.  
  
Mina's response was to laugh and hit Killua's shoulder.  
  
"God, Shigaraki, why would you talk with someone so stiff?", she grinned and shook her head.  
  
Killua didn't know what to respond, he didn't consider them to be as close as Mina portrayed them to be right now.  
Iida seemed at a loss of words too and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of the water.  
  
Suddenly Mina's grin vanished and she turned to look up at Killua.  
"You didn't call me after we met in Chiba! I gave you my number so you would use it.", she huffed and crossed her arms.  
  
Both of them were now ignoring Iida as they started walking towards the building of U.A. high and the boy seemed to be too astonished to say anything against it.  
  
To be honest Killua had forgotten about her number and he never had the intention to make friends so meeting Mina and Kirishima should have been a one-time thing. And yet here he was, wondering where Kirishima was since he had assumed the two were usually seen together.  
  
"I deleted your number.", he answered after a while, too proud to admit he had forgotten about it.  
  
"You're mean.", Mina laughed, lifting her fist to hit him across the shoulder.   
  
It wouldn't hurt so Killua didn't move to dodge.  
  
Their bickering was relaxing in a way, he could concentrate on the calm flow of her quirk to drown out the buzzing of all the people surrounding them and he didn't want to admit it, but the thought of failing the exams was still somewhat present in his mind even though he knew he couldn't possibly fail. Not with all the preparations he had done.  
  
Listening to Mina ramble about something she had experienced last week, Killua tried relaxing his nerves.

Then he opened to his mouth to answer something but before he could say anything something green flashed at the edge of his vision.   
He almost got a whiplash from turning his head so fast. All he could see were teenagers with all kinds of hair colors yet none of them were green.

But he could have sworn he saw green.

And a part of him hoped to see _someone_ here.

  
  
 _Maybe Alluka brought him here, too,_ he thought, desperately trying to spot the green hair in the crowd again.  
He didn't imagine it! He wasn't that pathetic!

  
  
"Hey, Shigaraki. You okay?", Mina asked, leaning into his field of vision though Killua only hummed in a brief affirmation, still trying to see past the crowd of students blocking his view.

  
Then- there, again, a flash of green.

  
Breaking off from his way towards the school Killua forced his way through the crowd ignoring the way he shoved people out of his way. Behind him Mina shouted something but he ignored her.

  
  
What if he was here too?

  
  
What if he would finally see him again?

  
  
Killua's eyes had locked onto the bush of green hair barely peeking out between shoulders and heads of the crowd.

  
  
There was static in his ears.

  
  
The more steps he took forward the louder the noise grew.

  
  
Was he here?

  
  
Was he really here?

  
  
Had Gon come to this world?

  
  
His breath was picking up and he was almost sprinting through the crowd.  
  
  
  
  
The green hair grew closer and closer. Pushing past people he shoved them out of his ways.

Everything to get closer.  
  
  
  
Only a few steps.  
  
  
  
The last person keeping him from reaching Gon.

  
  
  
  
He pushed them away and-

  
  
  
He stopped.

  
  
  
He didn't even register when Mina bumped into his back, complaining why he'd suddenly stopped.

  
  
  
  
  
**It wasn't Gon.**

  
  
  
  
Why did he feel like crying?  
  
  
  
The boy had curly green hair, the color similar to Gon's but the hairstyle was a completely different one. He was short and his body lacked the muscle mass Gon had. Instead of a healthy tan from the sun, freckles adorned his face and instead of a warm brown, green eyes looked at the world.

  
  
 _What a pathetic version of Gon... And aren't you pathetic too? Seeing someone like Gon in a boy like this...,_ the voice whispered.

  
  
Killua clutched his fists so tight the knuckles turned white.  
He was pathetic, wasn't he?  
  
  
  


  
And then he grew incredibly angry.

  
  
How dare this boy impersonate Gon?

  
  
He knew his thoughts were irrational, of course he knew.

But he didn't care.

Not right now.

  
  
Not when the last specks of hope he had left were crushed beneath the sole of this boy's shoe.  
  
  
Mina tried talking to him, but the world around him was quiet except for the static in his ears that had grown to enormous volumes.  
  
  
  
  
The boy didn't notice him yet and Killua just stared wishing it was Gon that stood there talking to a girl with shoulder-length brown hair.

  
  
He wished he was anywhere but here.

  
  
He wished he was with Gon over anyone else.

  
  
  
  
He couldn't stand the sight of the boy anymore.

He didn't know what he would do to him if he looked at him any longer.

  
  
Turning around he walked back, face void of any emotion.

Mina didn't try to say anything, instead she took a long look at him as if trying to see what was going on inside his head.

  
  
  
And he didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was curiosity or something entirely different, but before completely leaving, Killua let his quirk roam the boy to see what strength was hidden inside him.   
Maybe he hoped for some kind of consolation, maybe he expected to feel the familiar strength of Gon's _Jajanken_.

  
  
What he did not expect was to feel All Might.

  
  
No- not All Might. _One for All._

  
  
  
And Killua was set ablaze with _rage_.

  
  
How dare he!

  
  
This imposter!

  
  
How dare he try to fool him! Was he trying to gain his sympathy by reminding him of Gon?  
  
Killua's hands were shaking.

  
  
  
His Killing Intent bubbled up inside him and Killua didn't even try to reign it in. Instead he let it out, weaving around him like whips.   
  
  
He was angry- no, more than that. He was furious and more than anything else he wanted to kill that boy.

  
  
That boy that tried to impersonate _Gon_.  
  
That boy that carried _One for All_.  
  
That boy that would fight for the _heroes_.

  
  
  
People around him were frozen in fear, his Killing Intent rolled in waves off of him.

  
  
Killua didn't care.

  
  
  
This boy wasn't Gon.  
  
And he would kill him because he wasn't Gon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah~ I have so much planned out already, I'm excited! Haha


End file.
